Scar Tissue
by infinite shadow
Summary: In the wake of a possession, blood ritual and physical abuse can the Winchesters get their lives back to normal?  hurt!Sam, worried!angsty!dean. 3rd in the Renovation Trilogy.  Read Renovations and Shadows first to avoid confusion.  Rated T to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last stories.

The story is complete at approximately 20 chapters and plan to post about once a week.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue**

**by infinite shadow**

**Chapter 1**

Dean pulled into a parking stall a ways from the motel room.

The River's Lodge was not much different than any other dive they'd ever stayed in. A common motel at the side of the road, but being the time of year traffic was high and the so-called lodge was full.

Not that it mattered. It had been a great night for him. A good pool game; which led to an even better game of darts; which had led to an outrageous game of poker. He was up four hundred dollars and no punches had been thrown.

It was kind of refreshing to not have any sore losers. The two guys he had been playing all night had been great. Aside from some good natured grumbling they hadn't even bitched about losing. In fact, they bought him a beer and had asked for pointers before he left. Dean had taken the beer and watched for the setup but it never came.

He'd spent the last two hours giving them free advice on their pool game. They'd never be as good as he was, but they were better than when he'd arrived.

The car door groaned softly as he closed it and he headed for the room. Wait till he told Sammy about them. It would have been perfect if his brother had been there to have seen it for himself.

A few soft snow flakes began to fall around him and he smiled. At that moment he thought nothing could possibly ruin his evening. He fished the room key out of his pocket. One step from the door he froze and the grin faded away.

Two loud muffled voices on the other side of the door had him sighing. The slight beer buzz fell away, leaving a small headache in its wake. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes looked down to the key in his hand.

He turned as the key was roughly shoved back into his pocket and he glanced at the Impala. He could wait it out in her vinyl bench seats. Wouldn't be the first time, but it was early yet and far too cold to just sit out there.

Dean flicked up the collar on his leather jacket as he walked past the office and out onto the street. He aimed for a diner they'd passed on the way into town. Far enough away for him to push away his headache, blank his mind of too many recent arguments and clear his head. Close enough to not freeze to death in the process.

Snow began to fall harder as he walked. Not the big wet flakes he was accustomed to. These were so small and powdery soft that he held out a hand in amazement to capture a few. A small half grin lit up his face as he brushed them off and kept walking.

He'd never actually admit it to anyone but he loved this kind of weather. There was something special about falling snow. Even on a busy street with a few people walking past there seemed to be a comforting hush that never happened at any other time.

He took a deep breath of the crisp cool air and his chest ached slightly. A vague reminder of a bookshelf or wall he'd been tossed into last week. His smile only grew as an older lady with a cane smiled at him.

"Lovely night," she said with a nod.

Dean returned the gesture. "Yes it is," he replied softly.

Too soon he was at the diner and he dusted himself off just inside the doorway. There was no music, just a general soft din that came with road side stops – murmuring voices, metal on china, sizzle of the grill in the back, bells, and muted engines as cars passed on the road outside.

He settled at a booth and looked out the window intent on looking at the falling snow for a moment. His reflection looked back at him, looking gaunt, washed out, almost ghost like. He squeezed his eyes shut as his entire body shuddered.

"What can I start you off with, hon?" A tired looking waitress asked him.

"Coffee and," Dean said as he stopped himself from grabbing a menu. It wasn't like he actually had to look at those things. In every diner and every state they basically had the same thing. "What's the best pie?"

"Depends on whatcha like," she said with a shrug. "S'all good. There's peach, apple, pumpkin, banana cream, lemon meringue, or cherry."

_Huh. Yeah all_… "Pumpkin with whipped cream on top and a dish of vanilla ice cream," he said.

She nodded distractedly as she wrote it down and walked away.

His stomach growled and he glanced at the menu thinking he should've ordered a meal. A grin lit up his entire face. "No way," he breathed.

He scooted over in the booth and was almost drooling over the shiny mini jukebox attached to the wall. It had been ages since he'd seen one of those things. He flipped through the selections and was delighted to see some of his favourite bands were in there. He started to dig into his pocket for change only to find he only had bills.

The waitress thunked his order down on the worn table top. "Need some change darlin'?"

"Yeah," Dean said.

She nodded as she counted out the coins from her tips. She cleared her throat. "Don't choose the Johnny Cash songs. Not that there's anything wrong with Johnny, personal favourite of mine, but some of the local kids came in and switched up the music. It's some rap group. Not bad, but it's no Johnny. Some of our old timers nearly had a heart attack when all that noise came out. We've fixed almost the rest of 'em, it just may not come out as you see it the way it's labelled. We think Johnny's the last album to be fixed but we still get one of two that are off. So if you get one that doesn't work let me know ok?"

"Yeah sure," Dean said, blinking at the long explanation. Messing with Johnny wasn't cool but there were a lot of other great choices he could go with.

Knowing how long the fights could last for he flicked through the pages and chose several songs.

The dessert was long gone and he was on his six or seventh coffee refill when an unfamiliar tune began to play. He put down the paper he was reading and glanced around. He was the only customer and it was possible one of the staff had chosen this song.

It was all drum beats and odd keyboard riffs. He didn't usually like this style but this was cool.

"I'm switchin' you to decaf sweetie," the waitress announced.

"Yeah ok," Dean said softly as he read her name tag. "Liz, do you know what this song is?"

She tilted her head and smiled down at him. "Sure. It's Genesis - 'The Brazillian'. One of my favourites. All rhythm and no lyrics, but not your choice?"

"Nah, but it's ok. I like it," Dean said, then gave her the track it was supposed to be.

A few songs later he ordered another piece of pie and hit the jukebox up for more songs. He knew he should go back to the motel room, but he couldn't seem to bring himself to leave the cozy diner. He was seriously enjoying the tunes, the coffee and the comments Liz was making at him every time she passed by.

It wasn't long before he had the feeling he was being watched. Slowly he lowered the paper and swallowed heavily as he saw his father standing next to his booth.

"Uh, hey, dad," Dean said softly with a weak smile. "Want some pie? It's really good here."

John slid into the booth across from him. "Been here long?"

"Nine cups of regular coffee, then I switched him to decaf. He's on his fourth decaf cup. Two slices of pie, and some ice cream. Oh and the pudding is better warm so Bert's just doing that now," Liz said as she put a mug down in front of John and held up the coffee pot.

The tips of John's lips curved up as he nodded. He waited for Liz to walk away. "I was getting worried."

"I can look after myself," Dean said.

"True. But it's not often that I see the car in the parking lot and you're not around," John said calmly then took a sip of the hot brew.

Dean sighed. "I did good tonight. Got back and just felt like taking a walk. Ended up here."

"Bullshit. You heard Sammy and I fighting again," John said tiredly.

Dean looked out the window and stared at his ghostly reflection. He chewed on his bottom lip for a second before he slowly blew out a breath. "Didn't feel like getting in the middle tonight is all."

John nodded. "Which pie?"

Dean looked back at him a little confused at the change in topic. "Pumpkin and cherry."

"Pumpkin pie is gross. It's all slimy and yucky," Sam said as he slid into the booth next to his brother and deliberately bumped into his shoulder before reaching across him and grabbing a menu off the end of the table. "They gotta have banana splits or hot fudge sundaes."

Dean shoved him back roughly. "Dude, personal space."

Sam snickered as he looked up at him then turned serious. "You ok? You kinda looked tired."

Dean shrugged. "I'm fine, Sam."

"You were gone for like ten hours," Sam started to say.

"Three," John corrected softly.

"Ok, three hours after the car parked but it felt like ten," Sam said with a nod.

Dean frowned at his little brother then turned to look at his father. "How much candy has he had today?"

"We were worried," Sam said with a shrug as he looked at the menu and gave his brother a soft jab at the same time. "Cause you heard us fighting again."

Dean shook his head and cuffed him for the jab. "Was letting you two work it out."

"About that," John said, ignoring their actions. "Sam was right."

"Wait. Is that even possible? Sammy was actually right about something?" Dean teased then couldn't hold back a yawn.

"I asked for a vacation," Sam said quietly as he put the menu down. He stared down at it and traced the pictures of food with his finger.

"A vacation? Where are you going?"

"Anywhere that doesn't include a hunt," Sam answered with a shrug. "I'm not picky."

Dean nodded. He should've seen it coming with all the fights and the difficulties with the sparring. Kid had been growing like a weed and his balance had been a problem. He sipped his coffee. It would suck that his brother wouldn't be with them for a while.

"Not just Sam," John said.

Dean snorted. "We'll kill each other."

John smiled. "We'll be meeting Bobby tomorrow. I'll go with him and you two will go on to the salvage yard. Take care of things while we're gone."

Sam huffed beside him. "Salvage yard sitting. It's as if they're worried the rusted out cars in there will miraculously start and drive away. Or the remnants of whatever the metal used to be will magically get possessed and start flying everywhere," he said and rolled his eyes.

Dean fought the urge to laugh. He took a breath. His lips folded inwards, he pressed down on them and took another breath. He bit down on them as the giggle threatened to emerge as Sam continued on arguing the merits of babysitting a salvage yard.

"I mean come on, dad. The parts aren't exactly going anywhere," Sam protested.

"More coffee?" Liz asked and put water down in front of Sam as she looked at Dean. "Is he ok? He's gone a funny shade of red."

"Oh he's just fine," John said with a twinkle in his eye.

Liz took John and Sam's order and left. Before Sam could begin again Dean burst out laughing.

"Sorry, sir, but I'm uh with Sammy here on this one," he said as he leaned back and eased an arm over the back of the booth seat. "Why doesn't Bobby bring Shadow and we'll grab a cabin somewhere?"

"Could we go fishing, Dean?" Sam asked excitedly.

"Did you even look outside?" Dean asked, giving his brother a stern look with his eyebrow raised.

"Ice fishing?"

"I'm not freezing my ass off for fish," Dean said.

"Boys, you'll be heading to the salvage yard where I expect you two to stay out of trouble and not kill yourselves or each other. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," Dean answered.

"Fine," Sam grumbled.

"You know, Sam, we could just take you two along," John said.

"I know, but I just," Sam started then shook his head. "It's ok. Maybe we should just go with you. Vacations are a bad idea."

"No way, Sammy. Dad's given us some down time. I think we can handle it," Dean said.

Sam looked over at him funny through his bangs. "Um, ok?"

"Just as long as you two don't burn the place down, I don't care what you two do," John said. "And I don't want to know. I don't want to hear of any limbs falling off, broken bones or tears of rage. If it gets broken you fix it, the wallpaper starts falling down you re-glue it to the wall. You get hurt, stitch yourselves up. If something burns down I will take it out on your hides."

When Sam froze for a mere second next to him Dean slipped his arm off the back of the booth and put it around his little brother's shoulders. Then when Sam looked at him, he gave him a conspiratorial wink. "Yes, sir. We understand."

"You'd better," John said with a tease of a smile on his face then shook his head as he drained his coffee.

Liz returned a few minutes later with John's pie, Sam's banana split and another piece of pie for Dean. "He burned the pudding," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Sam and Dean argued about what songs to play next. It was the harsh elbow to Dean's already aching ribs that made him shove Sam so hard that the younger sibling had to grip the table in order to not fall on the floor. By the time Sam had settled back on the seat Genesis had begun to play.

John turned the page of his paper ignoring the antics of his sons in front of him.

"Oh why didn't you say you wanted this one," Sam said, shaking his head. "This is cool."

"Really? Maybe your taste in music isn't completely emo-mush after all," Dean said. "There's hope yet."

"Nope. Just gotta get you into this decade," Sam said with a grin.

"Right," Dean shot back.

Sam yawned and leaned back against the back of the booth. "So Uncle Bobby's all to ourselves?" he whispered.

Dean raised an eyebrow and nodded.

Sam chewed on his lip slightly. The last time he was at Uncle Bobby's place he'd forced the man do a blood ritual with him.

"Football, beer, and maybe a girl or two," Dean said.

"Dean," John said a warning clear in his voice behind the paper.

"Football, pop, maybe a movie or two," Dean quickly amended and winked at Sam.

Sam shrugged.

Dean leaned back contentedly and mirrored his sibling's posture. "No fights. No hunting. Just some fun. How's that sound?" he asked, watching his little brother's reaction and felt a bit sad when Sammy hesitated by hiding how he was feeling under sarcasm about babysitting the junkyard.

Sam shifted slightly so their shoulders were touching slightly. He nodded and yawned.

Dean could see how uncomfortable Sammy was with getting together with Bobby. It had been going on for months. He had tried to think of anything Bobby could have said or done to make his little brother uncomfortable and had come up with a blank. It had to stop though because Bobby was one of the few people in their lives they could trust without question. He needed to get to the bottom of the problem and soon.

Liz breezed by the table dropping the cheque as she passed.

"Um, dad?" Dean said softly. "Sammy here's about to turn into a pumpkin."

"Shut up," Sam growled, his eyes half closed.

The edge of the paper turned down. "Looks fine to me."

"We're heading back to the motel," Dean said, giving Sam a slight nudge to get him moving knowing his brother was tired and he was exhausted.

John nodded and folded down the paper. He frowned at his oldest son for a minute.

Dean smiled slightly as he pulled out some of his winnings and left a hefty tip along with the bill. "Thanks Liz."

She smiled at them. "Have a good one," she said as she scooped up the money and headed behind the counter.

Sam got out of the booth first and slowly headed for the door.

"Give us a head start?" Dean asked softly.

John nodded. "Sure. Is everything ok?"

Dean hesitated as he watched his little brother for a moment before he looked back at his father. "I think so. Just gotta a feeling is all."

"All right," John said picking up the paper again. "I'll be there in a little while."

"Thanks," Dean said and rushed to catch up to his little brother.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended. Characters are property of the CW/Eric Kripke and all.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last stories.

Thanks out to Muffy who beta'd this chapter for me. I have done some changes since getting it back so any left over mistakes are mine.

Posting a day early as I am away on vacation and not sure where I'll be tomorrow. As it was done I thought I'd post it and not worry about it. For those of you who have left a review thank you! Hearing what you think of the story is always appreciated and makes me want to write more. For those of you who have put in an author alert or story alert (as I can't do it personally) thank you to you as well.

I hope you enjoy the next chapter :D

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**Scar Tissue**

**by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 2**

They were quiet on the way back. Dean was looking forward to the time at the salvage yard and seeing Shadow again. It had been almost six months since they'd been there, and while they'd seen Bobby they'd not been to his place. Sam hadn't been the same around the man since their last visit, hadn't been the same around dad either.

Dean sighed inwardly. He didn't like to think about the last year too much because it was just too painful. It was bad enough his father had been possessed and he'd not seen the signs, but Sam had tried to tell him and Dean had ignored him lost in his own world of misery and pain from being left alone while his father tested Sammy on his hunting skills. That alone should've told him something wasn't quite right. Dad had left them on their own several times over but never while one of them was injured, and he wouldn't have left either one of his sons completely alone. The man wasn't a complete bastard.

After months and months of being abused by his possessed father Sam had finally called Bobby and asked for help. It was his little brother who had figured it all out. He'd known about the possession, found the spell to stop it and had gotten them all to Bobby's one of the few places that was safe enough to deal with the problem.

Sam had been so brave and smart it made Dean even prouder to be his big brother, and it sickened him at the same time that he'd allowed something so horrible to go on for so long. For Sam to take all of the pain alone without Dean stepping in like he should have, after all it was his job as Sammy's big brother to watch out and protect him.

Dean had failed miserably and completely.

As the months passed since leaving the sanctuary of Singer Salvage Sam had changed. No longer showing signs of fear for their father Sammy had fought with their dad, picking fights that made Dean squirm uncomfortably. Constantly questioning, pushing and being just argumentative.

Dean often wondered if that whole mess had triggered something in his brother. Something to move him away from his life, or something suicidal because arguing your case with proof was one thing, but just being bullheaded was something else.

"Dean?" Sam asked softly.

"Hmm?" Dean replied as he pulled himself out of his thoughts and scanned the area, making sure it was safe as they walked.

"Do we have to stay at Bobby's?"

"Why shouldn't we?" Dean asked softly.

Sam shrugged.

"Whatever it is that's got you so upset get over it or figure it out. It's just Bobby," he said, shaking his head with annoyance.

"I know but it's just you know . . .," Sam swept out a hand as if it explained everything.

Dean glanced over with a raised eyebrow. "Ok, vague boy, you know I really don't know right now. How about you fill in the blanks for me?"

Sam sighed and stopped.

Dean took a few steps as he cringed inside. He knew what he'd be facing when he'd turned around and he wasn't disappointed. "Dude, put away the sad eyes and just tell me."

"I made him do the ritual," Sam whispered.

The older sibling frowned in surprise as he chewed on the inside of his cheek. So that was what this was all about, after all this time? Sam had been freaking out about the exorcism and blood ritual with Bobby? He tilted his head slightly as he pondered the possibility that it was the root of all the fighting with their father as well.

"Its Bobby. He understood," he said as he stepped back to his younger brother. "Know what he doesn't understand?"

Sam shook his head.

"Why you're treating him like he's carrying the bubonic plague every time we see him. You called him for help, and he came through for you. Got a shitty way of repaying him," Dean said as he wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders to soften his words. It didn't make them any less true, and he always found the truth hurt the worst.

"So why would he let us stay there after what I did?"

_Oh._ "Cause, you idiot, we're family," Dean said and started walking forward, leaving his arm over Sam's shoulders to make his little brother walk with him.

"Even after?" Sam asked as he easily kept up with his brother, but not moving away like he usually did.

"Especially after," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. "Why are you so worried about that anyway?"

"I guess," Sam shrugged and then huffed out a breath, wanting to tell him the truth, knowing he couldn't. "I dunno. The whole thing made me a freak?"

"Dude, you were already a freak. Didn't change a thing," Dean snorted and gave him a shove as they came up to the motel.

They were silent as they got to their room and Dean opened the door.

"S'late. Go to bed kiddo," he said softly.

"Not tired," Sam shot back as his fingers curled into his palm and he unconsciously scratched the wound on his hand. It had been there since the ritual at Bobby's and it wouldn't go away no matter how he treated it. He made sure his baggy clothes were always long sleeved now so they went past his wrists so no one saw it. He'd gotten it past his older brother and father so far. He just had to find the right mix of herbs to heal it properly.

"Whatever," Dean said. "Dude, I wish you coulda been there."

Sam frowned at him. "Where?"

"At the bar tonight," he answered.

"Yeah?" Sam said and smiled as he peeled off his jacket and sat on his bed.

"There were these two guys. Couldn't play pool worth shit, but gotta tell you, Little Man, you coulda given them a run for their money that's for damn sure," Dean said as he sat next to his brother on the bed. "They were cool about it though. Took 'em for a lot and they didn't once try to take a swing at me for it."

"Really?" Sam asked. "You're putting me on."

"Nope," he answered softly.

"How much Dean?"

"Coupla hundred. It was a good night," Dean said softly.

"That much makes it a great night."

"Nah. A great night would've been you there watching my back," Dean said, turning to look at his kid brother. He was slightly pale with bags under his eyes. "A great night would be you really opening up to me and telling me what's really going on with you."

"Nothing's going on with me," Sam answered with a slight shake of his head.

"Uh huh," Dean said just under his breath and watched his little brother closely.

He'd noticed over the last few months Sammy had kept one hand tucked up under his sleeve. Every once in a while he'd hadn't been careful enough and Dean had seen glimpses of white bandages around his hand. Supplies from the medical kit had been dwindling faster than what had been using after their hunts

He wanted his brother to come to him on his own and tell him what was wrong, but he knew he couldn't wait it out any longer. Unfortunately Sammy wasn't taking the opportunity he was presenting, and he pursed his lips together in slight frustration. Dean lightly grasped his wrist and held up his hand. Gently he pushed down the long sleeve revealing the bandaged hand. "Wanna tell me why you haven't told Dad or me you're hurt?"

Sam glanced down and away.

"Hey, I thought we had an understanding. I thought you knew you could come to me," Dean said softly.

"I… It won't go away. I didn't know what to tell you. I've tried to deal with it. I… Dean I…"

"Ok, Sammy," Dean said seeing the panic flash in his little brother's eyes. "Take it easy. I'm not mad. Just tell me when this happened."

"You won't believe me," Sam said.

"Sure I will. If it was an accident or if a blade slipped I won't be mad, I promise," Dean soothed as he felt his brother start to shake. "I'll just do some more knife training with you is all."

Sam shook his head. "I did it on purpose," he whispered.

"What?" Dean gasped in alarm. "Dude, this is not the way we deal with things. You know that."

"No! No not like that. I didn't mean… No… I'm not…" Sam shook his head again and wrenched his arm back, cradling it against his chest. He bolted to his feet and tried to step back only to back into the night stand. "Y-you did it too. So did Uncle Bobby but you guys healed and I didn't! No matter what I use on it the cut won't heal. It won't. I've tried. I've really really tried!"

"Ok, Sammy. Ok," Dean said he got up and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We'll figure this out, ok?"

"It won't heal," Sammy said and sniffed softly. "It won't."

"It will. I'll look after it," Dean consoled. "It will."

Sam leaned against his brother's side. "I didn't know what to do."

"Tell you what. Next time you don't know what to do, you come to me," Dean said. "I promise to not be angry or to get upset. I thought you knew that's what I'm here for."

Sam nodded. "I do. I know I can come to you, but I thought this was different."

"How?" Dean asked as he pulled back a bit, gently lifted up his brother's hand and started to unwind the bandage.

Sighing softly, Sam watched the bandage begin to fall away from his hand. "Kinda felt like I just needed to deal with it by myself."

"Well that's a load if I ever heard one," Dean said. "Come on, Sammy. Really?"

Sam looked away. "I thought I messed it all up again somehow because it wouldn't heal. I thought that it would stay open until the demon was gone. Like part of it was still in dad and I'm still being punished," he whispered.

Dean froze for a second and frowned. He couldn't see his little brother's face and he hooked a finger under Sammy's jaw to make him look up. There were tears just waiting to fall and a bleakness he'd never seen on his baby brother's face.

"Ok, let's get some things straight here. One, the demon is long gone and it's not coming back because you were smart enough to figure out how to deal with it. Two, you ever get hurt you come to me and I'll help you. No matter how it happened, no matter what kind of hurt it is, you come to me. Three you start feeling this way and you talk to me," Dean said and almost sighed as Sam started to shake.

"During all that training before you said I had to be stronger. I had to grow up and start taking care of things on my own," Sam whispered as a tear streaked down his cheek. "I thought this was one of those things."

Dean clenched his eyes shut for a second and shook his head. He opened his eyes again to see more tears falling down Sam's cheeks. "Ok, whatever I said to you back then? Please, Sammy, you've got to forget it. We've talked about his. I wasn't myself. Think about it. Would I really let you get hurt without doing something about it?"

Sam shook his head.

"Right. Would I normally try to hurt you on purpose?"

Sam nodded.

"Ok. That's not fair. I slipped last week and twisted to avoid you during training. I didn't mean to take you down with me. You know that right?" Dean asked as his heart began to beat a little faster and he felt his cheeks flush.

Sam nodded. "You hurt me before."

"I know I did. Sammy, you know I'm sorry about that, right?"

Sam nodded again. "You weren't really yourself."

"There's no excuse for how I treated you."

"You didn't want me to be hurt like you were in that house when those guys beat you up," Sam said softly.

"True," Dean answered as weariness crept into his mind. The mere thought of it this close to bedtime was all it would take for there to be nightmares ahead of him in the wee hours of the morning.

"I know you wouldn't hurt me like that now," Sam said. "But I thought you meant it when you said I had to be more grown up."

Dean sighed. "You're grown up enough for now," he said as he gently pulled away the last of the gauze.

Sam glanced over at his brother. "It's not too bad."

Dean looked down at the wound. There was some swelling around the palm of his little brother's hand and an angry red line where it had been slashed with the knife. There were no streaks like he'd had with his blood poisoning so that was a good sign. "What have you treated it with?"

"Antibiotic cream, stitched it a couple of times when it stayed open for more than a couple of day, um, I've tried a couple different poultices... It'll close up and start healing, but then it reopens and stays open for a day or two," Sam said tiredly. "Last few months I've tried a few herbs. I wrote 'em down in the journal you gave me. They didn't work either."

"Dude, when this heals up I'm kicking your ass for being stupid," Dean said as he sighed. He had no idea how to fix this, but he knew someone who probably would. Pulling out his phone he dialled a number.

"Who are you calling?" Sam asked nervously and fidgeted a bit when his brother didn't answer.

"Yeah?" A gruff voice said from the other end of the line.

Dean waited until he heard a familiar voice. "Hey, Bobby."

Sam's eyes widened and he tried to pull his hand away but he couldn't seem to pull away from his older brother's grip.

"I need some help with treating a wound," Dean said, tightening his grasp on his brother when he tried to pull away.

"Boy, if you've been messing with girls I don't have that kind of remedy for you," Bobby growled good-naturedly into the phone.

"No, actually it's kinda serious. It's an older wound, slash across the palm of a hand," he started to explain.

"You finally see Sam's wound?" Bobby cut him off.

"What?" Dean asked as he looked from the wound at his little brother.

"Saw the bandages the last time we met up. Kid wouldn't let me close enough to even try to look at it let alone bring it up. You know everything that goes on with that kid and figured you'd tell me if there was a problem," Bobby answered. "Seeing as you're callin' me now, you didn't know. Jesus, Dean, get your radar fixed."

Dean sighed. "Bobby," he growled.

"Fine. What's it look like?"

"It's closed up for the moment and it's not infected. There's a bit of swelling though," Dean answered.

"Treatment so far?"

"Antiseptic creams, poultices and different herbs on their own. Sammy's got it written down but I haven't not seen the list yet."

"Ok. Look the hunt we're supposed to be doin'? I'll hand off to Caleb. Get his lazy ass off my couch," Bobby said.

Dean smiled as he heard the indignant voice in the background yelling at Bobby.

"Your father there?"

"No. He's at the diner. Asked him to give me a few minutes with Sammy," Dean said.

Sam sat there glowering at his brother. There was no way this was his brother. No way they were related. Screw this he was leaving. He stood up, expecting Dean to stop him, but his brother just kept his vice like grip on his arm. Thinking he was making headway he took a step towards the chest of drawers and he frowned in frustration as Dean stood up and moved with him.

"Nah, I don't think he knows," Dean answered and scowled at his sibling.

"Then you're a bigger idiot than I figured. Your father knows Dean. When I pointed it out to him last time he said he was trying to give Sam time to come to him or you," Bobby said. "He figured Sam wouldn't let him look at it unless he came to your father voluntarily. Not after everything that happened."

"Crap. Dude, get me your journal," Dean said as he frowned at his brother. He let go of Sammy's arm but didn't take his eyes off him as his little brother started to dig through his duffle.

Sam hissed softly as he pulled out his journal. He turned and looked at his brother for a second before tossing his journal at him and went into the bathroom.

Dean sighed as the journal bounced on the bed next to him. "Bobby I'll need to call you back. I think he just opened the wound again."

"That's fine. I'll call your dad and tell him to get on the road. Dean, I don't think I need to tell you how important this is," Bobby said.

"What do you mean? It's not infected," Dean answered.

"Not by means you can see. But you need to get here. Make sure it's temporarily looked after and be ready to get on the road when your father gets there," Bobby said.

"Wait a sec. How do you even know that?" Dean asked frowning as he opened the journal.

"Just who do you think you're talkin to boy," Bobby growled. "Don't you think I know what could happen after dealing with something so powerful? Didn't you think about the consequences of a blood ritual? Especially in the worn down condition the two of you were in when you got here. I'm surprised it's just Sam who's infected."

"Ok. Ok. Fine but it doesn't look infected," Dean said, hearing the fear in Bobby's voice, then sighed. "Bobby, what is it? What aren't you telling me?"

"There's a chance, and a good one by the sounds of it, that it's infected by a by-product of what we did during the ritual."

"What are you talking about?"

"Residual evil from the ritual. It's treatable, but you need to get here," Bobby warned. "He'll get more and more agitated the longer it festers. Just get here."

Bobby slammed the phone down and glared at the man who was hovering behind him. "Gotta job needing done."

"Not like I'm busy," Caleb said with a shrug.

"Obviously. You're butt's been warming my couch for days," Bobby grumbled at him. "Good for nothing, lazy..."

"Oh pipe down. old man. You know I was just hangin' out, waiting to see the kids," Caleb said with a huge grin. "Give me the details. I'll look after it."

"Shouldn't take too long to do this. Got the paperwork in my bag. Gimme a sec to dig it out," Bobby said.

"Good. Faster I get this done the faster I can get back," Caleb said.

Bobby grinned as he walked towards the front door and his packed bags. He always gave Caleb a difficult time when he visited, but he looked forward to seeing him almost as much as seeing the Winchester kids.

To Be Continued...


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Sorry this is way late. I've been a bit preoccupied with looking for work and a few other things. Also I tried to post earlier but I couldn't seem to logon to this site. I don't know if it is my laptop or my connection or what but at least I'm able to post today :). Hopefully there will be no further delays in posting.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a bit after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
By infinite Shadow  
Chapter 3**

Dean went into the bathroom to check on his little brother. He was standing at the sink watching blood drip from his hand into the dingy basin.

"You even gonna try to apply pressure or are you just gonna bleed out for kicks?" Dean said as he grabbed a towel off the rack.

"Don't do that," Sam said. "It'll stop. Just needs a few minutes. It's already slowed down."

Dean grabbed the first aid kit that they usually kept in the bathroom and pulled out some gauze pads. "Tell me what you normally do then."

"It bleeds for a few minutes and it stops. Then I clean it with the alcohol wipes and wrap gauze around it," Sam answered.

"Run the water, lukewarm," Dean instructed.

"It doesn't," Sam started to say.

"Run the water," Dean repeated, saying the words a little slower. "Lukewarm."

Sam turned on the taps.

"Put your hand under the water. Rinse out the wound, then we'll dry it and wrap it."

"Dean it doesn't..." Sam started to say, but one look from his brother had him putting his hand under the warm water. He winced at the fresh stinging, but just concentrated on keeping his hand under until his brother said he could take it out.

"Ok. That should do it," Dean said. Gently he patted Sam's hand dry around the open wound. He used an alcohol wipe around the cut and flinched when his little brother sucked in a sharp breath of pain. He squeezed out some antiseptic cream over the gauze pad and looked at his brother. "Ready?"

"Yeah," Sam said warily. His entire body tensed up as Dean put the pad over the wound. "Ow. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. Take it off it burns!"

"Suck it up, dude. It'll only burn for a minute," Dean said softly as he made sure he'd covered the entire wound, and then started to wrap gauze around it. He taped the ends to the rest of the gauze to secure it. "The med kit goes into the car with you. No arguments. If it bleeds through we stop and deal with it right away."

"Ok," Sam said.

Dean took one last look at the wound and, satisfied it would be ok for a bit, walked out of the bathroom.

"You're mad. You said you wouldn't be mad," Sam said softly as he slowly followed his brother.

"Sammy I'm not mad. I'm really not. I'm kinda disappointed you didn't come to me with this. I've got to figure out how to help you," Dean said.

"You're gonna tell dad," Sam said as he frowned.

"Dad already knows and will be here soon," Dean answered as he put a full duffle by the door.

Sam looked away.

"Hey, this is not a problem. We just need to get to Bobby's, ok?" Dean said as he went back to his little brother and put a hand on his shoulder. He gave a gentle squeeze and a nod. "I'm not mad and neither is dad, ok? I promise. Now, help me gather up our stuff?"

Sam looked up at his big brother for a minute before he nodded and started picking up some of his things.

By the time John had returned they were almost ready to go. Dean shoved the last few items into his duffle and Sam held the first aid kit in his good hand.

"Boys," John said as he entered the room.

"Hey. You spoke with Bobby?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," John answered, and then looked at his youngest. "Doing ok, son?"

Sam just nodded.

"We're ready to get on the road," Dean said as he closed up the bag.

John nodded. "I've already checked us out. Sammy, take the keys to the office while your brother and I pack up the car."

"Ok," Sam said as he put the first aid kit down on the bed. He took the key from his father and took Dean's key from the table. With one look at his big brother he left the room.

"Is he really ok?" John asked a few moments after the door closed.

Dean shook his head. "No. The wound opened while I was on the phone to Bobby. It's hurting him. I've treated it for now but there's no telling what it'll do. Bobby said we needed to get there now."

John nodded as he picked up three of the duffels. "Yeah. Dean, this isn't going to go well. You need to be prepared for that."

Dean stilled for a second as he looked at his father. "I don't want to hear that. Sammy will be fine. There's no other option. I won't let there be."

"I understand that but this is going to get harder before it gets better," John warned.

Dean shook his head. "Whatever it takes we'll deal with it. I mean it's what we do, right," he said then headed out the door. Whatever it was his father was trying to tell him he didn't want to hear it. Sam would be fine. He'd find the way if Bobby of their father couldn't find it. There had to be a way to help his little brother. There couldn't _not_ be a way.

He got to the car and opened the trunk. Dean threw in the duffels a little harder than necessary. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Getting angry wouldn't help his little brother.

"Dean, I'm not saying it's hopeless. Not at all," John said as he put the rest of the bags into the trunk. "Just wanted you to be prepared that it wasn't going to be easy."

Dean nodded sadly. God, he just wanted to rewind time and erase most of the last year "Yeah," he said softly.

Sam came up to them with a piece of paper. "Dad? The manager said to give this to you. The radio was on in the office. There's construction on the bridge that would have taken us out of town and it's closed for the night. He's got instructions on how to get out of town and onto the interstate."

"Just perfect," Dean growled as he slammed the trunk shut. They didn't need a delay; they needed to get to Bobby's.

"Hey," John said as he put a hand on Dean's shoulder. Feeling the massive tension there he gave a slight squeeze. "It probably won't take too long to get around it."

Dean shook his head.

"Get in the car, Sam," John said softly and kept his hand on his shoulder.

Sam looked warily between his brother and father for a second. "Ok."

The passenger side door closed and John turned his oldest to look at him directly.

"It's too much, dad. It is. Why Sam? Why not me or Bobby?" Dean whispered. "The three of us did the ritual. Hasn't he suffered enough?"

"I don't know why, Dean," John answered truthfully and feeling the same way. The memories were still fresh and new ones were still coming to light of how he'd treated his son while possessed. He would have done anything to take away his children's pain, but the best he could do was get them to Bobby's to get the whole mess sorted out. "I know it's been a hard year, Dean. We'll get Sammy well again and we'll make sure this time that nothing else can happen."

"How?" Dean asked willing to do anything to make sure nothing else happened to his little brother.

"Bobby has some ideas that we'll talk over when Sammy's well, ok?" John said giving Dean's shoulder another squeeze. "One step at a time here son."

Dean closed his eyes and clenched his jaw slightly as he fought to get control of his emotions. "Yeah. Ok."

"Good. I'll drive first. You can relieve me later if you want," John said, holding his hand out for the keys.

Dean nodded. He took another deep breath before he got into the front seat of the Impala.

"You ok back there, Sammy?" John asked as he got in behind the wheel.

"Yeah," he replied softly.

John nodded and pulled out of the parking stall. He put the radio on low, knowing the quiet music that poured from the speakers would eventually help sooth his anxious sons. They pulled out onto the interstate and for the next hour or so nothing was heard except the quiet music and tires on the pavement.

"Dean?" Sam said softly from the back seat.

"Yeah?" Dean answered tiredly.

"I can't get it open," Sam said softly and tried to pass the first aid kit towards the front seat but it dropped from his shaking hands and fell to his feet.

"Can you wait a sec, Sam? Rest stop coming up," John said, seeing the sign as they passed it.

"Sure," Sam said easily.

Dean frowned as he turned around. He could hear the strain in his younger brother's voice. As they passed a car going in the opposite direction Sammy got lit up by passing lights. His grey t-shirt had an odd shaped dark stain on it that hadn't been there before. "How far, dad?"

"Few minutes," John answered.

"Make it less," Dean said as he reached back and grabbed Sam's arm.

"Hey," Sam grumbled as he tried to pull it back.

"Sooner is better than later, dumb ass," Dean grumbled. He pulled off his t-shirt and put it against Sam's palm. He pressed down and did his best to ignore the hiss of pain that Sam tried to hold back.

"Dean, relax. We're about to pull off," John said, sounding calm but feeling anything but.

Dean looked up from where he was watching the cotton of his t-shirt soak up blood. He met his little brother's eyes and saw resigned fear pooling there. "You're going to be fine. Few stitches and you'll be as good as new," he said just loud enough for his brother to hear.

Sam just blinked back at him as the Impala rolled to a stop under a light.

John was relieved to see it was deserted aside from them.

"Hold that tightly against the wound," Dean ordered then he was out of the car and round back to sit next to his brother. He pulled up the first aid kit off the floor and rummaged around for a moment before he pulled out the suture kit.

"Dean, no. It'll be ok. Just give it a minute. It'll stop. It always stops. Don't, please. It'll hurt," Sam whispered.

John opened the door and crouched on the other side of his boys.

"You've had stitches before," Dean said, not wanting to do this, but knowing it was needed. He had to appear strong or it would be worse for his brother. "You know it'll be alright."

Sam turned wide eyes at his father. "I don't want stitches."

"None of us ever wants them, Sammy," he replied and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Just let Dean take care of it."

"No!" he shouted, pulling away from his father's hand and shoving both at his brother.

Dean rocked back slightly and glared at his little brother. "Sam, stop it."

"No! I won't. Lemme out! I don't have to do anything you say!" Sam shouted.

"Sam," John said quietly as he took the injured hand in his own and began unwrapping it. "That's enough, son."

"He's got a fever," Dean said softly.

John nodded and held his son's wrist a little tighter as his boy tried to pull away. "Easy, Sammy, just let us look after you."

"No. Lemme go!" Sam said, yanking back and knocking his elbow into his brother's chin.

"Son of a bitch," Dean growled as pain lanced through his jaw and started a headache. "Enough!"

Sam stilled instantly. His chest heaved with panicked breathing and he was shaking. His eyes frantically raced between his father, brother and the suture kit. He couldn't seem to rein in any kind of control. He just wanted to get out of the car and run.

"Dean, give the kit to me. Hold him while I do this, ok?" John said calmly. He needed to get his son tended to now, before things got worse. He was already wound up too much, John fearing he was tensing up to be ready to run, and he couldn't allow his son to continue to be in this state.

"Sammy, you've gotta stop fighting us," Dean said as he gently pulled his brother back against him. He wrapped an arm around his chest and another over a smaller arm. Looking at his father he gave a curt nod. "Dude, just relax."

Sam shook his head back and forth while he struggled to get out of his brother's embrace. "No. Let me go. Please don't..."

John threaded the needle and took a firm hold of his youngest son's hand. "It's ok, Sam. Here we go."

Dean tightened his hold slightly. He knew that no matter what he said his little brother wouldn't hear him so he began humming quietly and he hoped soothingly. Something he did for his little brother after his nightmares. Relief flowed through him as his brother relaxed against him. His breathing still came in stuttered gasps and he was shaking, but Dean couldn't be sure if he wasn't shaking as well.

It wasn't normal for his son to react this way. In fact Sammy normally just did whatever he was told to do when it came to patching him up after a hunt. Sam had been stitched up a few times and every time he just let him or Dean do what was necessary. There'd never been a hint of this kind of reaction before. It bothered John to no end that his youngest son seemed to be suffering so badly. It also bothered him that he seemed to be easier to deal with this way than have him shouting and swearing at him.

They all watched as the needle pierced the skin and then flinched as Sam whimpered.

"S'ok, Little Man. Just close your eyes and listen," Dean murmured and then he started to hum again.

In the end it took fourteen stitches to close up Sam's hand. John finished securing the gauze around the wound. Dean still had his hold on his younger brother.

"I'll get rid of these and be right back," John said as he gathered up the soiled bandages and straightened up.

Dean didn't answer him. His own eyes were closed and he continued to hum to comfort his younger brother. One song morphed into another until he wasn't even sure what he was humming. It didn't seem to matter. Sam was tense but more relaxed against him than when they'd started. His breathing had evened out and his chest was no longer hitching with panicked gulps of air.

Sam's uninjured hand had moved so it had a fierce hold of Dean's forearm. He had no intention of letting go any time soon.

Dean jumped as the trunk was opened and then closed. He breathed a sigh of relief a moment later when his father opened the car door and got behind the wheel. He winced as Sam's hand tightened painfully around his arm.

"Gotta go through the mountains in a bit. Heater's not workin' like it should. Thought you two might want to bundle up a bit," John said as he handed Dean a blanket over the back of the bench seat. "Thought you'd want a clean shirt too."

"Thanks," Dean murmured. He knew the heater had been broken for a while. But as they were coming out of summer it had been one of those things that had been put off until they could afford to fix it or time to get to Bobby's. It wouldn't have even been a problem but the mountains had gotten fresh snow over the last few days and it would get colder before it got warmer.

"You boys get some sleep. Bobby's is several hours away. I'll wake you at the next rest stop. You need something before then, Sammy, you let us know, ok, son?"

Sam murmured something quietly and nodded the back of his head against his brother's chest.

Dean met his father's eyes in the rear view mirror. The unspoken command wasn't needed. He'd doze, not actually sleep. If his brother so much as twitched in sleep he'd be wide awake in a second. Giving a slight nod to his father, he gently nudged Sam forward just enough so he could get his clean shirt on. Then he pulled Sammy back against his chest, spread the blanket over the both of them and settled in for uncomfortable sleep.

TBC…..


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:**Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes:**This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a bit after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I hope you enjoy the following.

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 4**

It felt like mere moments had passed when Dean felt a shift of pressure on his chest. Immediately his eyes opened and he looked around taking his bearings.

"He's been dreaming," John said ever so softly so as to not spook either of his children.

Dean blinked several times to try and knock away the cobwebs of sleep. "Sorry sir," he said softly.

"He's been fine up until now. Barely moved and hardly made a sound above a sigh," John said barely above a whisper. "Not sure why you woke now."

Dean yawned and looked out the window. It was still dark but he could see a light dusting of snow had covered the side of the road in the Impala's headlights, but he was sure they had a long ways to go yet. "How long was I out for?" he asked as his eyes started to close again.

"'Bout three hours. We're just getting into the mountains now. It's only going to get colder. Go back to sleep Dean," John said.

Dean wanted to say no, it was fine, he'd stay awake but his body seemed to have other ideas as his eyes closed and he drifted back to sleep.

John watched the road and glanced back in the rear-view mirror to check on his sons. They looked like they were sleeping; Sammy was for sure since he hadn't mastered faking it yet. Dean on the other hand could look relaxed, his breathing even and calm, but he could be looking at you a second later as if he hadn't been sleeping at all.

He hoped his sons were sleeping. The next few weeks were not going to be fun. He ran a hand over his face in tired frustration. He really thought they'd left this all behind them. He should have known better.

Sammy's nightmares should have been his first clue. They didn't go one night without the kid screaming out in fear, or pain or outright panic. John had tried to help, but his attempts had been disastrous. With his mind still muddled with sleep Sam had scrambled out of bed as soon as John had touched his arm, grabbed his knife out of his jacket and sliced John's arm as he tried to defend himself.

It had taken Dean well over an hour to get the knife away from him and settled back into bed. Tremors wracked Sammy's body and he wouldn't let go of Dean. His eyes wide and fearful he finally tucked his face into his brother's chest. Thankfully, the knife hadn't cut deep at all, a minor wound at best and John was able to handle it on his own. There would have been no way Dean would have been able to pull himself away to help, and he wouldn't have asked. All Sammy's nightmares from that point forward were handled by Dean.

After that night, he'd kept a closer watch over his boys without their knowledge as they eased back into hunting. He'd kept an open dialogue with Dean about where and what they'd go after. They'd have heated discussions over what newspaper stories to follow up on and research that would border on arguments, but not really get that far.

John had taken on a few solo jobs, but he'd returned to his kids within twenty-four hours at the very most. Dean had pretty much been benched from anything too difficult as had his little brother, and while it frustrated his oldest son to have to stay behind he understood it was for the best for both him and Sammy for different reasons.

Even through all the discussions about which hunts to take on John and Dean had agreed that Sam was limited to salt and burns only. After everything that had gone on, he was not to be left alone. John's standing orders were the boys hunted with John and never without him or alone. Dean had agreed, but John had seen a bit of reluctance. His oldest son had learned to deal with his anger and emotions by either shutting down or killing something evil. But he would put Sammy above everything to ensure his little brother's safety no matter how badly he wanted to be in the field, and taking down as much evil as he could get his hands on.

They had both seen Sam struggling with coming to terms with what had happened to him during John's possession. While they didn't want to keep him out of the family business, making him feel left out, they didn't want him in a position where he'd be hurt in anyway. Salt and burns were never easy, but in relative terms they were the safest job they could do.

It was the morning after a solo job, as he was waiting for the boys to get packed up and into the car, that he'd seen the bandage around Sam's hand for the first time. It continued to show up from time to time with a week or two in between. While he should have asked, Sam had always gone to Dean before John had been possessed and he just figured his sons were looking after the wound.

John knew Sam had been doing more than his fare share of the digging. In fact some nights he literally threw himself into the work with a vengeance. It was a fight to make him stop long enough to take a drink of water or just a small break to rest. John had just figured his youngest boy was giving himself blisters from the worn down shovel handle and Dean had been helping him keep his blisters clean and free of infection. John had left it at that, and had hoped his son would come to him on his own but did understand why he wouldn't or couldn't. Maybe someday Sammy would trust him, but he knew that day was a long ways down the road but still he hoped.

His call with Bobby had been extremely short and eye opening. "Spiritually wounded" his friend had said as soon as John had answered his cell phone. It was evil that had gotten into the knife wound on Sam's hand during the blood ritual. It wasn't so much that the boy was possessed in the conventional way. More like he'd been infected with a virus that couldn't be contained by normal methods or drugs.

Bobby had compared Sam's wound to Dean's blood poisoning, but in this case the wound wasn't visible with the naked eye, or even a medical professional's eye. John's heart had clenched painfully as he'd listened intently to his friend on the other end of the line. The wound had not been tended to properly and was for a lack of better term, festering.

The wound did not mark a person's skin. It started to slowly change the infected person's personality. For someone like Sam who had a gentle nurturing sort of disposition, it would slowly begin to change them to defiant and combative. And Lord hadn't that described his youngest to a T over the last few months. Looking back over time since they'd been back on the road Sammy had been changing, and not in a good way. John believed he was just trying to deal with what had happened to him. Now he knew better**.**

Sammy had changed so much that he didn't know why he hadn't seen it. His youngest son was always eager to learn new fighting moves or how to handle a weapon. John was sure it had been to make him and Dean proud though, instead of wanting to kill evil. He'd still been a good and generous little boy with deep streak of mischief that kept Dean on his toes. Now it was as if that personality had been locked away leaving nothing but anger in its wake.

They were always arguing. If John said the sky was blue, Sam argued it was grey. If John asked him pack up his stuff so they could get on the road the answer was no. If John said they were looking for a werewolf Sam's answer was something different. It was never a conversation which was how Dean brought up a challenge. With Sammy it seemed he wanted to argue and push his luck.

It was exhausting, and each time Sam seemed to step on his last nerve that made him explode in kind. No wonder Dean had started to hustle alone. His oldest needed a break from his own family.

John wondered if he should've pressed the issue, but knew that would've pushed Sammy away even more. He could've gone to Dean and forced the issue that way, but he was sure his oldest son would've resented him for it.

Shoulda, woulda, coulda didn't get them anywhere. He couldn't change the past, they just had to learn to live with what had happened and face the present with that knowledge.

The only thing _they_ had to do was help his youngest son heal. But for all the false bravado his oldest son had, for all the reassured I'm fine, with a shrug and fake smile, John knew Dean needed to heal as well. He knew Dean suffered often from nightmares, from being abandoned, close to beaten to death, and memories of the hospital. John figured Dean didn't know he mumbled in his sleep, and most nights he awoke to his son begging his father to come back for him. Begging to be rescued and promising he'd be a better hunter if his dad would just come back.

On the worst nights John would silently get out of bed and ever so gently lay his hand over Dean's chest. He'd sooth him back to sleep murmuring just as softly back to his oldest that he was there, he wasn't hurt and he would never abandon him again. He was safe with him and Sammy. Usually it was enough so that Dean would settle back into what seemed like a dreamless sleep. On the odd nights, Dean would bolt up in bed ready to fight his father off, but waking fast enough to physically shove away John's hand and start to pull back his fist to fight before he would stop and ask his dad what was wrong.

John would just shake his head. He'd look into eyes still glazed from sleep that everything was just fine, he'd just been checking on him and Sammy and that he needed to go back to sleep. Dean would stare at him for a moment before he'd relax, slip back under the covers and asleep within minutes.

The car slipped slightly on some compact ice on the road and John's attention snapped back to the road. It had started to snow lightly and his hands tightened slightly on the wheel. He had to push away all of his thoughts and concentrate on just getting to Bobby's safely. He needed to get his children well again. Nothing mattered aside from that. Nothing.

0000000000000

Dean slowly eased back to consciousness. As he became more aware he knew he was in the Impala, that something heavy was resting against his chest and that he hurt from the position he was in.

His eyes opened and closed immediately. It was bright, too bright. He took comfort that the Impala was steadily moving, the engine purring around him like a lullaby. He always got too relaxed when he slept in the car with his father taking control of the wheel. It was one of the safest places he had ever known in his entire life. Bobby's salvage yard and Pastor Jim's were a very close second and third.

"Where are we," Dean mumbled as he cracked his eyes open again.

"Middle of nowhere," John answered. "Pit stop coming up. Wake Sammy."

"Ok," Dean said and looked down to where his brother had his back against his chest. He took a moment to check the wound on Sam's hand. The bandages were a tiny bit stained in a few small spots, but aside from that it was still clean. There was no blood showing through at all. "Hey, Little Man. Up and at 'em."

Sam sighed and tried to curl around his brother. He hit the back of the seat, lifted his head, then put it back down on Dean's chest. He murmured something unintelligible and his breathing evened out again.

"Come on, Sammy. You need to wake up now," Dean said, giving him a gentle shake.

"No," Sam whined.

Dean glanced up and saw his father's grin. "Dude, don't be like that. Come on. Gotta check your hand and dad's going to stop at the rest stop. Then you can go back to sleep."

Sam sighed dramatically, leaned his head back and blinked sleepily up at his brother.

"Mornin', sunshine," Dean said as he grinned down at him.

Sam glared at him and struggled to sit up right. "No fair. You're too happy to be just up," he grumbled.

Dean just grinned at him.

"We're stopping in a minute, Sam," John said.

"Ok," Sam said and looked out the window. "There's snow."

"Yeah we're in the mountains," Dean said, then yawned. "I'll get the coats out from the back"

"Got them already. Stopped once for coffee," John said. "Figured you two would wake up, but you were both dead to the world."

Dean leaned forward and took the coats his father was handing back to them. "Thanks."

"Just a ten minute break, boys. We got to push on to Bobby's," John said as he pulled off into a rest stop and parked the car. "Understood?"

"Yeah," Sam said.

"Show me your hand, Sam," John said and was satisfied when his son showed him a mostly clean bandage. "All right. Off you go."

Dean nodded and walked his brother into the rest stop bathroom.

John watched them for a minute before he pulled out his cell phone. He checked in with Bobby to tell them where they were, and when his friend asked about his son, John updated him on Sam's condition. Then he, too, headed off to the small building.

John got three drinks and some snacks out of the machine. He gave them to the boys and headed into the bathroom. Five minutes later, they were back on the road. Breakfast was pop and oatmeal raisin cookies.

"You know these taste like cardboard," Sam grimaced as he looked at the cookie. "Why can't we just keep boxes of cereal in the car?"

"Dude, shut it and eat," Dean said, his mouth full of half chewed cookie.

"Dean," John said with a quiet sigh. "Sammy, you don't have to eat it. Just thought you boys would be hungry. Next town is at least an hour or two hour away. We'll stop for food then, but in the mean time it's what we have. Your choice to eat it or not."

Sam snorted. "Not."

"Fine, give it to me then," Dean said and took the cookie from his brother. He put it on the bench seat between him and his father for when his little brother changed his mind.

TBC...


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:**Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes:**This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a bit after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 5**

Dean relieved his father from driving after they'd stopped at a diner. He drove for hours until they reached the safety of Singer Salvage.

Bobby came outside, and was down next to the car before Dean had even put it into park. Tiredly Dean eased himself out of the car and immediately had a pair of paws on his chest.

"Hey girl!" Dean said with a huge grin. He gave her a quick petting, then made her get down. "Hi, Bobby."

"Hi, yourself," Bobby said. "What took so long? You're three hours overdue."

"Too much snow in the pass and then construction was everywhere," Dean answered seriously, then tilted his head.. "Aren't you the least bit happy to see us?"

"Hell no," Bobby said.

Shadow barked at him and rubbed against Dean's leg. Dean immediately knelt down and gave her a good petting again.

"Well at least someone was glad to see us. Aren't you girl," Dean said to the dog.

Bobby shook his head, but couldn't help the slight smile that eased up the dark look on his face. He looked into the car to find Sam and John fast asleep.

Dean straightened up. "They need so much more beauty sleep than I do," he quipped.

"How bad is it?" Bobby asked, cutting to the chase.

"Bad enough," Dean answered. "Dad had to stitch it up in the car at a rest stop."

"John said he's changed."

"Yeah. The arguments are insane and constant," Dean said as he looked down on his sleeping brother, reaching up with a hand and rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't know, Bobby. I never thought..."

"We'll take care of him, Dean."

Dean levelled a look at him. Robert Singer was one of very few men who could make him feel better with a few gruffly spoken words and feel safe in his presence. This time it wasn't just the words that didn't help. The overwhelming self-doubt and fury at himself wouldn't be eased until things were fixed for good.

"We'd better," Dean said softly. He really needed his little brother healed and a some peace in his family.

Sam slowly stirred in the back seat as Dean opened the door.

"Hey, Sammy. We're at Bobby's," he said, then went around to the trunk to collect their duffels.

Sam blinked sluggishly and flinched when Shadow jumped into the back seat with him. "Get him off!" Sam yelled as the dog started to lick his face.

John shot up to a proper sitting position looking around for the threat. Seeing none he twisted to look into the back seat. "Sam, calm down."

Dean gave three sharp whistles and Shadow immediately raced to his side. He looked down and raised an eyebrow at her. "You know Sammy's not a morning person girl," he said as he ran his hand over her head.

"All right ,Sam?" John asked as he looked up at Bobby standing next to his car with his arms crossed over his chest.

"Peachy," Sam grumbled using the blanket to wipe off the dog slobber.

John sighed and got out of the car. "Hey, Bobby," he said softly.

Dean stopped beside them and dropped the duffels to the ground. "You ready for us?" he asked.

Bobby took a good look at the teen's face. He was tired and was carefully masking how he was feeling so it wouldn't show on his face, but he could see the fear in his eyes. Dean's eyes always gave him away.

"Yeah, but you're not going to like it," Bobby said just as softly.

"Really, I thought it was going to be a party," Dean said with a frown.

"Dean," John said warningly.

Sam got out of the car and started towards everyone else. He stopped when they all turned to look at him. Uncomfortable with the scrutiny, he didn't notice Shadow come up beside him. He gave a startled cry as she licked at the gauze that covered his wound.

Stumbling back a little, he was grateful that Bobby called her away. Regaining his composure, he looked from one to the other knowing they hadn't stopped starting at him. "God! What!"

"Nothin', Sam," Bobby said. "Just seem a bit nervous around Shadow is all."

"Whatever," Sam ground out. He turned on his heel and started off for the maze of junk. He really wanted to be alone. He wasn't just some circus freak they could all stare at for kicks.

"Sammy, wait," John called after him.

"What for!" Sam yelled back at them. His entire body seemed to flinch as he felt a hand touch his shoulder.

"Easy, man. It's just me," Dean said.

Sam clenched his teeth together. "Leave me alone."

"Not gonna happen," Dean said.

Sam huffed impatiently. "Why not?"

Dean pressed his lips together for a second while he looked down at his little brother. He sighed and raised an eyebrow. "You really want to be alone?" he asked softly.

Sam's shoulders dropped, and he realized he was shaking. "No," he said, his voice just above a whisper.

Dean nodded. "It's kinda cold out here, kiddo. Why don't we go inside?"

Sam shook his head feeling his cheeks suddenly go hot.

"Why not?" Dean asked.

"You were all looking at me like I was some sorta freak," he said softly, then looked up at his brother. "But I'm not!"

"I know that," Dean said evenly. "Do you honestly believe they think you're a freak?"

Sam shrugged and looked away, feeling the prickly sensation of tears beginning to build around his eyes.

"Sammy, they don't believe that. They're concerned about you. Just like I am."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah."

Sam scratched at his palm, winced, then looked up at his brother again. "I think I know what's wrong with me," he said softly.

"Really?"

"I'm turning into a monster," he whispered as a lone tear escaped and trailed down his cheek. "I don't wanna be a monster, Dean."

"Dude, you are not a monster. Monsters have these really nasty pointy horns sprouting from their heads and scaly slimy skin. I seriously don't see that happening here," Dean said, trying to keep it light, but at his brother's defeated expression he cleared his throat. "You are not a monster, Sammy. I've known you forever and while you've had moments that I've thought you were possessed you are definitely not a monster."

"Then what's wrong with me?" Sam asked, taking his older brother's explanation as truth.

"You have an infection. One that we can treat," Dean answered. "It's just gonna take some time."

"Really?"

"Yeah, man, really."

Sam nodded. "Can… Can you stay with me?"

"I'll be here the entire time. I'm not going anywhere. I promise," Dean answered.

Sam nodded again and took a steadying breath. He shivered slightly. "Ok."

Dean reached out and gently wiped away the few tears that had tracked down his little brother's face, then smiled. "Good."

Sam pulled back from Dean's hand. "Can we go inside? I'm kinda cold."

"Sure," Dean said as he wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders.

It was after dinner, after the dishes had been taken care of, and Dean was called over to the dining room table that he learned how they were going to help Sam. As he sat there listening to Bobby go on and on about how it was to happen, with his father adding bits and pieces, that he decided they were certifiably nuts. His eyebrows lifted almost to his hairline, and his eyes were open as far as they could go, stopping them as he raised a hand off the table.

"I'm going to do what?" he asked the two men sitting across from him. Dean glanced into the living room to make sure his little brother wasn't listening. "Are you insane!" he hissed at them.

"Dean it's not that hard," Bobby said.

"Back up for just a sec. Remember I'm the guy that takes shop class to work on cars not some artsy farsty shit. My hand writing is barely legible and you want me to _forge_ something?"

"Dean this isn't up for debate," John said.

"Why not?" Dean demanded.

"Because Sam gave _you_ the amulet," Bobby said with exasperation. "The amulet goes to a protector, specifically protecting the one who gave it to them. Sam gave you the amulet claiming you as his protector."

"There's no way..." Dean started to argue.

Bobby held up a hand to forestall the argument was about to be waged. "It doesn't matter if he knew it or not, you idjit. For the last time _you_ are Sam's protector."

"Dad and I both protect Sam," Dean said as he shook his head.

"Yeah, but he gave you the amulet. There's no loophole here, son," John said softly.

"The fact that he chose to give it to you gave you a stronger bond," Bobby said, trying to rein in some of his frustration. No matter how many times they'd tried to explain this to the sixteen-year-old, Dean tried to deny it. He couldn't be in denial and get this done. They had to get him to listen to reason. "Look you and your dad protect Sam. But the fact is that the amulet was given freely to you by Sam's decision alone. No one else directed him to do that."

"Dean, I know you would do anything for Sam with or without the amulet. But the book is clear," John said as he pointed at a page in the old tattered book.

"The Talisman of Mars," Dean said.

"By the protector, for his charge, and created out of iron on a Tuesday of a new moon. With a lion's head encased in a six pointed star and two crossed swords in a pentagram. Forged over a _ruta graveolens_ flame and anointed thirteen times with the forgers blood during creation. Silk red pouches to encase the talisman of seventy and one days to ensure recovery of health," Bobby recited from memory.

"It doesn't even rhyme," Dean huffed.

"Dean," John started to say.

Dean pursed his lips and shook his head. "Why thirteen and seventy one? What's so important about those numbers?"

"They just are," John said.

"Does it matter?" Bobby said, seeing the look on the teen's face.

"Its Sammy we're talking about. Of course it matters," Dean said.

Bobby nodded. "Thirteen is the number of lunar months. Seventy one is three times three times three," he started to answer.

"That's twenty seven," Dean snapped as he scowled at him.

"Dean," John said, the warning tone enough to make his oldest son sigh and look away for a moment.

"Would'ja let me finish, boy? Twenty seven times three is seventy one," Bobby finished.

Dean glanced over to where Sam was watching TV oblivious to the conversation happening about him. He glanced up at the calendar on the wall. "Tomorrow's Tuesday with a new moon."

"At midnight take the flashlight by the door and find iron in the yard. Says here you have to find it, part of the ritual. So I can't help you," Bobby said.

"I know what iron looks like," Dean said.

"Take it out back by my workshop. I have a temporary forge setup for you to use. The book will be out there and I have some enlarged drawings of it as well to help you," Bobby said.

"Dean, don't over think this. It's lines and curves and…" John trailed off as he saw the discomfort his son was having over this. "Ok. All you need to think about is it's for Sam. It's all that matters."

He was quiet for a few moments mulling it over. "What about the silk?"

"That's out there for you too. I was able to find red silk material and red silk thread in town just before you were due to arrive. That's the next to last step," Bobby said.

"What's last?" Dean asked.

"The ritual," John answered.

"I assume it's not as easy as slipping it over his head?" Dean asked hopefully, and at the shared look between Bobby and John he sighed. "Of course it isn't."

Shadow whined softly as she rested her muzzle on his thigh.

Dean looked down and gently wove his fingers through her soft fur. It settled some of the fear in his belly but not all. He looked up at his father and uncle. "I guess the ritual is up to me too?"

John nodded.

"Great! Just friggin great," Dean muttered as he got up. Anger flared in him, and he stomped outside. Sammy was jumpy enough he didn't need to make it any worse for the kid. He needed a few minutes to himself to calm down.

He sat down on the steps of the house. He couldn't do this. He had to do this. Crap. He couldn't screw it up, but how was he going to figure this out?

A soft whine slightly behind him made his lips curl up slightly in a smile. He didn't realize she'd come outside with him, but he shouldn't have been surprised. "Come here girl," he said softly as he patted the wood step next to his thigh.

Shadow went down two steps and looked at Dean. She stepped forward and licked his face a few times before she sat down at growl-barked at him.

Dean smiled at her and reached out to pet her. He ran his fingers down her back through her fur. "What am I going to do, girl?"

Shadow whined at him before she inched forward and laid down resting her muzzle on his thigh. She huffed quietly, before whining again.

"If I mess this up," Dean started to say, then shook his head and looked out over the yard. He knew there were few things he couldn't do and tried to focus on taking calming breaths as he patted Shadow's back in long even strokes.

He thought about the charm's pictures in the book and tried to remember the school field trip to a historical fort when he was about eight years old. He remembered thinking it was hot, too hot, and wanting to run from the heat. But at the same time he was engrossed with how the man used a huge fan to stoke the fire and moved the metal into the hot coals. He couldn't take his eyes off the yellowish red super-heated metal when it came out of the coals. He cringed at the loud clanging noises as the man shaped the material on the anvil. Then he had jumped when the metal was cooled it in the water bucket with a loud whooshing sound.

The man had gone on to make a linked chain and explained how back in the day he would make horseshoes and nails and everything they needed out of metal.

That night he'd gone home bursting with the need to tell his father about his exciting day. But his dad had been on the phone for so long that he told Sammy all about it. He didn't think Sam understood him so he'd drawn pictures so he could see what he'd been telling him about. His little brother had loved the story Dean had told him and made his big brother put the pictures on the fridge.

They'd moved on the next day, but the trip had been so fun that he'd never really forgotten it.

"Maybe I can do this," he whispered, then looked down at Shadow. "What do you think girl?"

0000000000000

Sam got up from where he'd been watching TV and went over to his father. "Where'd Dean go?"

"He just needs a few minutes, Sammy," John answered.

"You know what he could use?" Bobby asked.

Sam shook his head slightly.

"Got stocked up on your favourite cookies," Bobby said. "Why don't you take some out to him?"

Sam glanced at the door. "Ok."

They all went into the kitchen. Bobby pulled down some glasses while John got out the milk from the refrigerator. Sam got the cookies out of the cupboard. With Sam's hands full, Bobby went to the door and let him out then he looked over at John.

"Could use some help getting that forge going," Bobby said quietly. "We start it now and it'll be ready for Dean later."

John nodded and followed his friend out of the house.

0000000000000

"Dean?" Sam said softly from behind him.

"Oh, hey, Sammy," Dean said softly as he turned to look at him. "You've got a handful there."

Sam smiled tentatively down at him. He had a glass of milk in each hand and a package of Oreos under one forearm.

Dean reached out, took a glass and the cookies before they could fall. He watched his brother come down the steps and sit next to him. He put the package of cookies between them one step above them. He ran his fingers through Shadow's fur on the other side of him before he glanced over at his little brother.

"It's going to be bad, isn't it?" Sam asked after a few minutes of silence.

"Well it's not going to be fun, kiddo," Dean answered.

"Figured," Sam muttered.

Dean sighed. Bad wasn't the word. It was going to be a total suck-fest. He just had to find a way to make it as painless and as easy as possible for his little brother.

As they sat looking out at the quiet salvage yard Dean slowly began to figure out how to keep Sam ok while he worked. They talked quietly and when the milk was all gone, and half the cookies had been eaten, they went back inside and settled in front of the TV.

About 11:30, he got off the couch and went into Bobby's washroom. He opened the cabinet that held the usual supplies one would find and pulled on the shelves to the hidden compartment. He pulled out a vial of clear liquid and hesitated. Dad would probably kill him, then Bobby would probably reanimate him just to kill him all over again. But his little brother had been scared and hurt enough.

He put the vial into his pocket and went into the kitchen. He poured one glass of milk and one cup of coffee. He put four drops of the liquid into the milk knowing it had no smell or taste so Sam wouldn't know.

Taking the drinks out into the living room he sat down next to his brother.

"Not thirsty," Sam murmured not taking his eyes off the TV.

"You just finished the last of Oreos. How are you not thirsty?" Dean asked.

Sam shrugged and took the milk. He downed it all in one gulp. Then proceeded to burp his last name and giggle. "Ok. Maybe I was a little thirsty."

Dean shook his head and put an arm around him. The movie they were watching was beginning to wrap up.

"I don't like this movie," Sam said sleepily a few minutes later.

"So why did you want to watch it?" Dean asked.

Sam yawned. "There was nothing else on."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Fine. Go to bed then."

Sam sighed. "Don't wanna," he whispered as he shifted closer to his brother.

Dean lifted his arm up just enough for his little brother to get comfortable then rested it back over his shoulders.

"Feel funnnny," Sammy slurred as his head rolled slightly against his big brother's chest.

Dean looked down sadly at his little brother. Whatever it was Bobby had in that vial worked fast. Sam was already falling into a deep sleep. "Sorry, Little Man, but it's for the best."

"Wha?" He slurred as he tried to shift closer to his big brother. "Deeee?"

"I'm right here," Dean said softly. "Just go to sleep."

A few moments later Sam started to snore lightly. His body was totally relaxed and Dean cringed at what he had one. He knew it was the right decision though. His brother would sleep soundly all night and well into the morning. There would be no nightmares for him to wake up from and find himself completely alone.

He knew it would work because he'd used it once before. Sam hadn't slept for days and Bobby had suggested it. None of them really wanted to do it, but with the night terrors the youngest Winchester had been going through it seemed like the sensible solution. It had worked and while it didn't cure the nightmares, Sam had slept and told them he hadn't dreamed at all.

With a heavy heart Dean got up and lifted his little brother into his arms. He tucked him into bed just as the clock on the night table flicked to midnight.

"Sleep well, Little Man. I'll see you in the morning," he whispered before pulling the covers up just a little higher before leaving the room.

His mind began to race, reviewing everything he had to do that night as he opened the front door and saw Shadow sitting there like she had been waiting for him.

"Come on girl," he said and she happily came into the house. He led her back to the bedroom where his little brother was sleeping. The sleeping drought was supposed to be almost foolproof, but just in case Sammy wouldn't be completely alone. He patted the bed and Shadow jumped up, settling right next to Sam.

He gave her the command to stay and protect. The protect command probably wasn't needed, but he felt the need to say it anyway. He was about to leave when his eyes landed on Sammy's duffel. Knowing a few more second wouldn't matter, he dug into it and pulled out his teddy bear. It was a signal that they used from time to time when John was out hunting and they were alone. It meant Dean had been there, things were fine and he'd be back shortly, usually with breakfast.

It was the best he could do under the circumstances. He turned and walked out of the room.

He had iron to find.

TBC...


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories so if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. I've back-tracked a little here through conversations, hopefully if you've not read the first two stories it will make things in this story make a little more sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a bit after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

As I can't thank you individually like a review - Thanks for the lurkers, reviewers who either don't have a login or who choose not not, and to the people putting me on their fav's list or story alert list. :) Thanks for letting me know you like the story in your own way. :D

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 6**

Both men looked towards the front of the house as they heard a door close.

"He's late," John said as he glanced down at his watch.

"By about a minute and a half. You don't think he'd start this without making sure Sam was safe and asleep for the night?" Bobby asked.

"Just sayin'," John said, then ran a hand over his face. He felt tense and on edge. Dean could handle a lot, his broad shoulders taking the brunt of almost everything in the family. John knew the day would come that one more thing added to the pile would make his oldest son walk away. Tonight he feared what they were demanding of him might be the final straw, not that Dean would walk away before he had helped his little brother. He'd wait until Sammy was well again. Then he would leave, and John knew without a doubt that if Dean walked he'd be taking Sammy with him.

"Your boy is good with his hands," Bobby said softly, drawing John from his thoughts. "The drawings I have here are pretty simple. Wish I'd had time to have a press made up so all he had to do was heat the iron and put it into the mould. It would have been a whole lot easier on the boy."

"It's got to be done right. Besides who else would have been able to make up a forge in less than twenty four hours?" John said. "Without it we'd be waiting another month to do this."

"Yeah, well, it was part of the barbecue so I was half way there," Bobby said as he stoked the coals and added more wood. Satisfied with how the coals were coming he slipped into his shop and came out with two beers. Handing one to John he took a long pull off his own. "You can't help him with this John. It might be easier on Dean if you go inside."

"Yeah," John said as he opened his beer. "He'll be a little while yet."

"You've not been in contact much since we took on that coven with Jim in Denver," Bobby said after a few minutes of silence. "Good thing your boys know my number."

John nodded.

"Dean says you've been around a lot but a bit distant," Bobby said and when his friend turned to look at him he just smiled. "It took hours of asking to get that much out of him, and I mostly guessed."

John shook his head and looked away.

"Figured you'd started to remember things," Bobby said. "Left you a few messages but you never called."

"Wanted to keep working. Thought that was helping," John said gruffly. "Guess not if that's what Dean told you."

"So you gonna make me talk at you all night or are you going to tell me?" Bobby said, then took another drink of his beer.

"I'm still trying to put it together," John said. "It's still muddled and confusing and a lot of missing time."

"Maybe I can fill in some blanks then. Kinda know some of it, certainly not all."

"Just moments really. Times I'd broken through most of the demon's hold but not enough to figure out what had been going on," John said. "There's a jumble of hunts, a vague memory of the house I left Dean in and the hospital, among other things."

When John stopped Bobby sighed. "House is gone. Torched it before seeing Dean at the hospital."

John nodded. "I don't remember where it was, just that it was where I'd left him. I remember fighting to get out of there with both of them. As most memories go as soon as I'd fought too hard every sense I had would erupt in pain. Things get fuzzy after that, like I'd been locked away for a while."

"What do you remember from the hospital," Bobby prompted when his friend fell silent for too many minutes.

"Sam. He was concussed and scared. I tried to talk to him, but I was struggling to get the words out right. I ordered him confined to quarters, or in this case his hospital room," John said and a small smile graced his face, then he shook his head. "Never in a million years would Sammy stay in a hospital room without one of us there with him."

Bobby nodded. The need for contact with his family would override any order John had given Sammy in general. With a concussion the boy wouldn't be thinking clearly except for finding his family. "What else?"

John was silent for a few more moments. "Dean," he said just above a whisper.

"What about him?" Bobby pressed. Getting the evil out of Sam's wound was as important as getting John to talk. Things could fester in more ways than one. Sammy's hand was one of them, and the nightmarish memories that John were remembering was another. Dean had his own version, but Bobby could tell he'd been dealing the best way he could. He'd have to get the kid alone to have a chat as well, but it wouldn't happen until Sammy was well again. He could help the teen with the forge when he brought the iron, but right now he could help John.

John shook his as if to clear the memory. "Does it matter?"

"Yeah it does," Bobby said, and when John remained silent he cleared his throat. "Best you tell me or I'll just keep pokin' at ya until ya do."

"I was sitting with him in his hospital room. He was still hooked up to all the equipment. He looked so young, so sick," John said gruffly, then paused.

In the darkness Bobby could see him try and steel himself against the feelings that were welling up inside of him. His friend swallowed heavily and wiped a hand over his face. Giving the man time, Bobby took a long pull on his beer and sat in the glow of the forge.

John cleared his throat. "Dean was having a nightmare. He woke up in a panic, choking on the breathing tube and fighting. His eyes never stopped rolling around the room searching for Sam. The desperation in his eyes, Bobby, the fear, and panic when he couldn't find his little brother, it was beyond anything I'd ever seen before."

Bobby nodded as his friend trailed off again. He could hear the pain in his voice, even though he was speaking just above a whisper.

John took a long pull off his beer, and dropped the empty bottle to the ground as his body shuddered. "He was yelling and choking at the same time. I'll never forget that sound."

The visual was almost too much for Bobby and he finished off his beer as well in the quiet.

"Dean started to pull out the tube. Before I could even think about what I was doing I was sitting behind him and was holding his hands away from it," John said his voice taking on a husky hollow sound. "He only started to calm down when I started talking to him."

"Wait. I thought he had pulled the tube out on his own?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, he did. A little later that night. His doctor was there when Dean was panicking and after we got him settled Ramsey called Jim and Caleb to bring Sammy back to the hospital. It was after, when Sam had just gotten into Dean's room, that all hell broke loose."

Bobby frowned and shook his head. "Anyone who knows these boys should know not to separate them like that," he said.

John nodded. "We thought Dean would rest if he wasn't trying to be strong for Sam. We thought Sam would rest if he was with Jim and Caleb, couldn't have been more wrong."

"I didn't hear about that. Just that Dean pulled out his tube on his own," Bobby said.

John sighed. "A guard caught up to Sammy just as he'd gotten into Dean's room. In the process of trying to take him out he hurt Sam. I tried to help and it got a bit out of hand. Sam was in pain and trying to get away. Dean tried to get to his little brother, but to do that he had to pull off all his leads, wires and the breathing tube. It was too much, and as he got out of bed he collapsed."

"Ah, hell," Bobby muttered. "Couldn't the guard just leave the kids be?"

"Apparently the rules were pretty clear and ridged, but he was just a kid himself and pretty new on the job," John said.

The silence stretched on for a while before John cleared his throat again.

"There's a lot I remember from the hospital. Some before and hardly anything after," John murmured.

"You stopped taking the pain killers when you got to Jim's, right?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, antibiotics too," John said, glancing over at his friend.

"The drugs would probably have interfered with the demon's hold," Bobby suggested. "Temporarily though, it would have found a way through them eventually."

John shook his head while Bobby got up and added more wood to the forge. He pumped air into it and a few sparks flew into the air. He went into his workshop and came out with two more beers for them.

"Tell me this ends Bobby," he said gruffly. "I can't get my family through much more of this."

Bobby shrugged. "It should. But you know as well as I do that there are no guarantees."

"Bullshit," Dean growled as he walked out of the shadows with an arm full of metal. He dropped it next to the hot forge. His face was set in a determined grimace as he stared down into the glowing coals. "It ends now. I'm ending it."

Both men started at his sudden appearance.

"Go away so I can start," Dean said as he took a long piece and stuck it into the red hot coals.

"Dean," John started to say, but got cut off.

"No," Dean said. "I can't do this while you look over my shoulder."

John nodded and stood up. Without a second look at his son he made his way into the house.

Dean pumped air into the forge stoking the coals. "You don't need to stay either. I got this."

"If you think for one second that I'm letting you be, then you don't know anything, kid," Bobby growled at him.

Dean looked over at him. His face lit up by the glowing embers. "Thanks," he said softly.

"Don't thank me. Get that piece of iron out of there so I can walk you through how to work it."

0000000000000

Bobby had been watching Dean, supervising his work for hours. He couldn't actually give the teen specific instructions, but he could make general comments. He told stories of times that he'd made talismans and charms, and how he crafted them. Dean had listened while he worked the metal and made fair progress.

Dean's face scrunched up as he faced the heat of the forge. Several pieces lay discarded on the ground at his feet. A testament to how hard he was working at getting this right. Bobby had taken him aside over an hour ago when he'd tossed aside another perfectly good star. He'd explained that while it needed to be right, it didn't exactly have to be precise. It wasn't a work of art, and it wasn't going to matter after they were finished helping Sammy. Just get the pieces worked as best as he could. As long as they were recognizable it would do fine. Bobby had ordered him to ease up and get the job done.

After that Dean worked the metal in and out of the coals with a single mindedness that didn't surprise Bobby in the least. Once the teen focused on something this intently it was hard to pull him away, especially if it was something about his family. Bobby was impressed how quickly Dean had learned how to work the metal. He'd been making decent progress on the current piece he was working.

Bobby had switched from beer to coffee once John had gone into the house. He'd been in and out a few times to refill mugs for both him and Dean. He'd finally brought out a thermos. He'd also checked on Sam who was sleeping peacefully with Shadow at the end of the bed. No doubt put there by Dean to keep his little brother safe.

The clanking of metal against metal had Bobby focusing back on the teen. The look of frustration on Dean's face was telling and he cleared his throat. "Dean."

"Not now," the teen all but growled.

"Stop for a minute," Bobby said and put a hand on his shoulder.

Dean stopped and turned to look at his friend. "What?"

"Let me take a look," Bobby said and took a good look at the metal the boy had been working with. "This is good. The lines are right. Pentagram is just right. It's time to make another cut."

Dean nodded. He took the knife that had been left in a small bowl of holy water. He glanced at the book Bobby was holding and murmured the incantation that was barely lit by the coals. Taking a breath he made a small cut on his hand, just enough to bleed, and let a few drops land on the piece of metal he'd been working with.

"Good," Bobby said. "Onto the next piece."

"The swords?" Dean asked as he fought back a yawn.

"Yeah. Take a break though," Bobby said. Dean looked worn through. It wasn't easy working at a red hot forge, and the boy looked like he could use a breather.

"Sure," Dean said as he went over to one of the chairs and sat down. He removed the heavy gloves he'd been wearing but left the apron on. He rubbed at his face for a moment, then looked over at Bobby. "Um, Bobby?"

"Yeah?" he replied.

Dean paused for a minute.

"What's on your mind, boy?"

"The Lion's head," he said softly. The rest were just lines and curves. He'd gotten the hang of that pretty quick after Bobby had ordered him to stop being so picky. Not that it was perfect, nowhere near it, but his efforts so far had been passable. Bobby had confirmed that. Dean worried his lower lip in his teeth for a minute, then shook his head.

"Not a mind reader here. Spit it out," Bobby said.

"I don't know about making that. The rest of this is just lines, but the lions head. It's got so much detail."

Bobby nodded. "I got something that will help you with that. Grab some coffee outta the thermos while I get it."

Dean nodded, already grabbing for the large container holding the strongest coffee he'd ever ingested. His stomach was giving him grief about too many cups, but if it was keeping him awake he'd drink a few more gallons. He filled up his cup and downed it all in one go, making his throat burn uncomfortably.

"Got it," Bobby said as he held out a metal mould to him.

"What's this?" Dean asked as he took it over to the glow of the forge to get a better look at it.

"It's called a press. Melt down some of the iron till its workable, put it into the press and hammer on it for a minute and you've got the lion's head. Then all you need to do is cool it down, anoint it and then get it red hot again. Hot enough for it to attach it within the star. We can leave it till last if you want. The order they're made in doesn't matter just that you complete it."

Dean looked up at him. "Will it count? I mean I'm not really making it. It's kinda like a cheat, isn't it?"

"Technically you're still making it. You are working the metal, getting it into the press so the image will come out right. It'll work Dean," Bobby assured him. "I wouldn't steer you wrong about this."

"I didn't mean you would, I just..."

Bobby shook his head. "I know that, boy. You need to be sure. I wouldn't expect any less."

Dean nodded and let his head fall back to the back of the Adirondack chair. He looked up at the stars, seeing his favourite constellation in the heavens above. "Bobby, what if it doesn't work?"

"You don't give up that easily, boy. It's not like you," Bobby said, sitting in the chair next to him.

"I'm not giving up," Dean said softly. "I just... I need this to be over. I need him to be back to normal. I need him to stop being afraid of dad. The nightmares need to stop. They're actually hurting him. And... I need them to stop arguing."

If Bobby was surprised at the sudden confession he didn't show it. He knew Dean was never comfortable talking about how he felt. If he was volunteering the information without being poked at Bobby knew he needed to tread carefully so the teen wouldn't shut him out. "You know there are no guarantees in anything, Dean. I also think you know this is the best we can do for Sam. There's always something else we can try, but this is the best I've got to offer you. You need to believe this will work so Sam will believe it will work."

"This year has been hell," Dean sighed. "I haven't protected him from anything."

Bobby shook his head at the telling confession. "You need to cut yourself some slack. Sam isn't a baby anymore. You've given him space to grow up, just like he's needed."

"Maybe too much space," Dean choked out. "I never saw anything that showed he was in pain or hurting."

"Because you trusted him to come to you," Bobby said.

"He didn't," Dean murmured.

"Of course he didn't. Had he come to you it would have been taken care of. I know you too well to think it had gone any different," Bobby said. "Don't even try to tell me otherwise."

Dean sighed and shook his head and continued to gaze up at the stars.

"Wanna tell me how you've been sleeping," Bobby asked casually as he poured himself another cup of coffee. "Or maybe why you're not sleeping?"

Dean tilted his head to look at the older man. "What makes you think I'm not sleeping?"

"The set of luggage under your eyes, idjit," Bobby said then took a sip of the dark brew. "Or did you think I'd gone blind in my old age?"

"Well," Dean started a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Careful boy," Bobby growled, glad the kid was about to rag on him a little.

Dean sighed. "Not much sleep to be had with Sam's nightmares," he said before turning his gaze back to the stars.

TBC...


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories so if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. There are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a bit after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

My apologies on the lateness of this post but hopefully I'm back on track and will have chapter 8 ready for next weekend. Thank you for your patience.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
****Chapter 7**

John looked out the window of his room. It looked out directly where his oldest son was working hard on the amulet. He'd brewed himself a pot of coffee and had been keeping watch on Dean, even though Bobby was out there with him.

He'd kept watch over Sam too, expecting any minute for his youngest to wake up screaming from a nightmare. But each time he looked in on Sammy his boy was sleeping peacefully.

Something was bothering about that. Not that his child was sleeping peacefully, Sam never got enough sleep or hardly ever slept through the night. It was that he hadn't moved at all since John first checked on him.

Sam usually moved around in his sleep, unless he was sleeping next to his brother; that seemed to give him a sense of peace and security that he never got sleeping by himself. Without Dean next to him he'd flip over, lose pillows and blankets to the floor. His t-shirt would often ride up to his chest and his jogging pants would ride up to his knees. But over the past few hours Sam hadn't moved an inch.

He wondered what Dean had done to give him that much peace while he was gone. The bear usually helped, but that too was still tucked under his son's arm. By now it should have been tangled in the sheets somewhere, or been flung to the floor when Sam tossed and turned. It just felt wrong.

He hoped it was just the infection taking a toll on Sam, and that Dean hadn't done anything to him. Whatever his best intentions would have been they would have no idea how anything would interact with the wound on Sam's hand.

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"Get back to it. Why don't you finish with the pentagram, get the swords in there, then we'll worry about the other side."

"Yeah, ok," Dean said as he got up, put his gloves back on and took a step towards the forge, then he realized his father was standing on the porch. "Hey, dad."

"Dean," John said. "How's it coming?"

Dean shrugged and tugged at his gloves.

"It's comin' along just fine," Bobby said.

"Good," John said, not taking his eyes off his son. "What did you do to Sam?"

Dean's head shot up. "I haven't done anything," he answered quickly and bit his lower lip, knowing his defensive tone alone gave him away.

Bobby frowned and looked between them. "What's wrong with Sam?"

"He hasn't moved an inch since I went inside," John answered.

"Sammy's getting sleep that's nightmare free. I would have thought that was a good thing?" Bobby asked.

"Sam's all over the place when he sleeps, and he hasn't moved at all since I went inside," John said, careful to keep his tone even and not accusational. "Explain."

Dean closed his eyes for a second. This was it. He didn't even get enough time to finish the amulet before being killed. This wasn't good. "Uh, can I explain after I finish the amulet?" he asked weakly.

"No," John said flatly.

Swallowing heavily Dean turned to Bobby. "You remember a few years back we were here and Sammy had so many nightmares he refused to sleep?"

"Yeah," Bobby said guardedly.

"You, uh... had or made him this stuff to make him sleep?"

"Yeah," Bobby repeated, then his eyes widened as he came to the conclusion Dean was leading them all to. "You didn't! Oh, God, you did, didn't you? You fed him the sleeping potion!"

Dean's throat chose that moment to close up. All he could do was nod.

"Bobby, is it the same batch you gave him last time?" John asked.

"How stupid are you?" Bobby demanded, ignoring John. "Christ all mighty, kid. How much?"

Dean shook his head. "Not much."

Bobby took a step forward. "How much?" he demanded.

"Four drops," Dean answered, taking a slight step back.

Bobby took a breath to hold in his temper but it didn't work. "What the hell made you think that was a good solution?"

"I didn't have a choice with this amulet, but I wasn't going to let him wake up terrified and alone! I couldn't... No, I _wouldn't_ let that happen!" Dean yelled back as he took a step forward.

"Dean, enough," John said softly. "Bobby, what will that do to Sam?"

"Hard to say. Normally it would just make him sleep, just like before. No complications, just hours and hours of sleep. With the infection, though, I don't know," Bobby answered, then turned to Dean. "This ain't play time, kid. It could be nothing, but it could be Sam doesn't wake up at all. _Ever."_

"What the hell was I supposed to do? Let him be terrorized and not have anyone there for him?"

"He wasn't alone! Your father..."

"Oh, right. The last time dad tried to help Sam from a nightmare he got an eight inch gash on his arm. Don't tell me I did something wrong here!" Dean shouted as he ripped the gloves off his hands and his anger exploded out of control. He ripped off the heavy apron and threw them all to the ground. "Screw you, Bobby. I'm done."

"Dean," John said from the porch.

"This isn't my fuck up. It's yours!" Dean yelled as he suddenly turned back enough to point a finger as glared at his father. "Or did you conveniently forget!"

"That's enough," Bobby said as he took another step forward.

"Bobby," John said hoarsely as he watched his son turn and get swallowed up by the darkness as he stomped away. "Leave him be. He won't be gone long."

"He needs to finish," Bobby growled.

"He will," John said, staring into the darkness where he'd last seen his son. He knew without a doubt Dean was a long way from that spot already. "He's carrying a lot right now and he's not wrong. This has been my fault from the beginning."

"Like hell," Bobby growled.

"I was open to possession. I hurt my sons. It's really that simple," John said. "At least it is to them.

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Like he would ever do anything to hurt his little brother. Who the hell did they think they were talking to? He looked after Sam. Ever since his father had placed Sammy in his arms and told him to run at the tender age of four he'd been watching over his little brother. He'd failed him over the past year, but it wouldn't continue. He'd rather die than hurt Sammy.

It wasn't just the right choice; it was the _only_ choice he had through this entire thing. Sam needed sleep; he needed to sleep without the nightmares that tore through him in the middle of the night. They hurt him, even if his father and Bobby didn't believe him, Dean knew that they did. The telltale marks showed as flashes of fear in Sammy's eyes and the bags under his eyes in the light of day.

He knew his little brother better than anyone. As the anger continued to burn brightly within him, he knew without a doubt he'd done the right thing.

As usual, he was paying the price for something his father had done. Dad had gotten possessed, because of that he'd almost died. It didn't seem to matter now, but his own nightmares reminded him every night of the pain and fear he'd lived through during those days. He'd been so sick and he'd been left alone, vulnerable to anyone passing by who cared to take a swing at him. And for what? A poltergeist? A possession? Black Dog? Did it matter what the thing was that they'd gone after?

Dean kicked at a small rock to try and dispel some of his anger. Looking out for family wasn't as important as the hunt was. Not to his father anyway. There were times he thought Bobby cared more for him than his own father did. Bobby always had time when he called or showed up. Dad abandoned them several times a month in crappy motels so he could continue on his mission. Did his sons matter at all? Not in the least.

The life they were forced to endure was wrong, and he had every right to be furious, not that dad would agree. Dean was supposed to continue being the good son and just keep taking it. Well he was done taking it. He'd had more than enough.

His anger was burning bright and hot, just like the forge he was supposed be working at. It was unusual for him. He usually got mad and then let it go. This time the anger just kept building and building. He swore he was going to explode.

He wanted to run but it was too dark in the salvage yard for that. He was walking fast and tripped over a couple of pieces of metal in the darkness.

Bending over he picked up one and threw it as hard and as far as he could. But it wasn't enough.

The anger seemed to burn brighter and hotter the longer he stood there. Bending down again he picked up the other piece of metal. One he'd tossed aside earlier that night. Turning he put all his anger into hitting an old car door with the piece.

He'd hit the car door with so much force the impact radiated up his arm and into his shoulder. He swung out again and again, almost as if he was striking out with a baseball bat. His arms shook and throbbed with each hit, but he kept going, relishing in the feeling. Several strikes later, after his hand had gone numb, and he struck out one more time. The metal smashed through the window and glass shattered all around him.

Pain twisted sharply in this arms, face and chest. His head reared back and he screamed through clenched teeth before he turned around and sank to the hard ground. A quiet sob escaped him as he fought for breath. He felt exhausted as his chin hit his chest and he felt hot tears track down his cheeks.

His chest burned as he fought for breath between quiet sobs. He could feel something hot and wet on his arms and knew he should look at them but couldn't seem to be bothered as he shifted on the ground and leaned back against the car door he'd destroyed.

He couldn't seem to stop the tears, and he wrapped his arms around himself. It was exhausting and he wanted to just lie down in the dirt and call it quits. Grab Sammy in the morning and just drive until they ran out of road. Somewhere away from hunting, somewhere he could really protect his little brother, but he knew there was no such place. There would never be that kind of place for anyone in his family.

He hurt, not just his body but his very soul seemed to be screaming out in pain as well. As much as he wanted this to get better he didn't think it would. Every time he thought they'd fixed everything something else would happen. The proverbial other shoe never stopped dropping and he wanted it to stop. More than anything he needed it to stop.

He sat there and concentrated on breathing and not thinking. Emptying his mind and taking long slow breaths. Each inhale pulled sharply and hurt him but he kept doing it, using the pain to settle and ground him.

"Dean? You out here?"

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face. His face was dry and he had no idea how long he'd been sitting out there. "No," he all but whispered.

What if he'd hurt Sammy? What would he do then? He knew it was one of a few things he could never recover from. He knew without a doubt that losing his kid brother would be the end of him. It wasn't even in question.

"Dean?"

He swallowed heavily and sighed. He wasn't exactly ready to face his father or Bobby yet. He just needed a little longer to regain control, get in the right head space to finish the amulet.

He could hear the sounds of footfalls on the ground coming towards him. Knowing he couldn't put it off any longer he slowly stood up. He started walking towards his father, keeping his head down. He couldn't seem to look straight ahead.

"Dean," John said, his voice relieved.

"Sir," Dean answered as he studied the ground.

"You've been gone awhile. I was getting worried," John said softly.

"I'm fine," Dean all but whispered the lie.

"You are not fine," John said, taking the few steps to be next to his son. "I know you aren't and you haven't been for a while. I'm sorry I haven't listened enough or tried hard enough to help."

"Don't need help," Dean answered automatically.

"Yeah, I think you do," John said.

Dean just clenched his jaw in response.

"I know things have been rough," John started to say.

"They've been fine."

"Dean, they've been a long way from fine. Sammy and I fighting has worn you down. Sam's nightmares are keeping you awake at night. None of this has been fair to you, but this amulet thing has been the hardest of everything. Do you think I don't know that? I'd do anything to take some of this pressure off you. But I can't Dean. Bobby looked, researched for hours looking for a way. But there isn't one," John said gruffly.

"Its fine," Dean said, realizing for the first time he felt cold, the warm blood trickling down his arm in sharp contrast, and he was shaking. He jumped when his father put a jacket around his shoulders. It was already warm and he knew it meant his father had been wearing it. His hands shook badly as he tried to hold the sides together over his chest.

"What did you do to yourself?" John asked softly as he gently put his hand under Dean's arm and lifted it slightly to take a closer look.

Dean cringed at the sadness in his father's voice.

"No, don't tell me. I think I can figure it out," John said.

"Sorry," Dean whispered, expecting his father to start yelling any second.

"No need. Let's get this taken care of," he suggested.

"I have to finish," Dean murmured as he looked at his father in surprise.

"You will," John said softly. "We'll get your wounds looked after, we'll check on Sam and then you can continue working on the amulet."

"I … I had to do something," Dean said softly, feeling panic building, like he had only moments to explain himself before he faced the force of his father's anger. His cheeks burned and he felt tears build behind his eyes again.

"I understand, Dean. Really I do," John said just as softly. "Sam will be fine. Of that I have no doubt."

Dean stepped back, confusion clear on his face. He shook his head. "You wouldn't be understanding about this. You'd be yelling, tearing me a new one for putting Sammy in danger…. Christo!" Dean yelled as he took another step back.

John just smiled gently at him. "Would you feel better if I yelled at you?"

Dean's mouth open and closed a few times. "Well, no," he said uncertainly.

"Good, 'cause I'd prefer not to," John said. "Come on."

Dean waited a few seconds before his shoulders hunched slightly and he took hesitant steps towards his father.

"I'm not going to hurt you Dean," John said around a tired sigh. "Just the opposite. Can't finish working on the amulet if you're hurt."

"Worked hurt plenty of times," Dean said.

"True but his time it's not necessary," John replied. "We have the time to fix your wounds before you go back to working."

Dean looked down at his hands. They felt swollen and he was surprised at the blood pooling at his wrists and dried blood at the end of his fingers. He figured something should hurt with all that blood, but nothing really did. "I, uh, I can't feel my hands," he said as he held them up and watched them shake.

John nodded watching his son closely. "It's all right, Dean."

"How am I going to make the amulet if I don't have any feeling?" Dean said with wide eyes as he looked at his father.

"I don't think they're broken. Let's just get you back to the house and get them looked at. I'm sure they're fine," John said as he put a hand on his oldest son's shoulder. He kept it there as they started walking back towards the house.

"Bobby's gonna have my head on a pike," Dean murmured.

"Nah. He's cooled down already and has been keeping the forge going. It's fine Dean," John said.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yeah. 'Sides giving him some time alone will get him thinking of ways to wake up Sam in case he doesn't wake on his own," John replied. "Which I'm sure will not be necessary. Sammy will wake up on his own. You did good with that, son."

Dean glanced at his father and cleared his throat. "Christo?"

John chuckled and moved his hand around to put his arm across Dean's shoulder. "Still not possessed son."

TBC...


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories so if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. There are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

I also just wanted to say that I have no real idea on how a coal forge or any kind of forge works. Even though I did do some research on the subject doing it this way just seemed to work better. Call it author's license or something.

Also apologies on the lateness of the post but the site wouldn't let me post. Huge thanks to Muffy for the beta.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 8**

They entered Bobby's house, and John let his son get two steps past the door. "You sit down at the kitchen table. I'll be back in a sec."

"Need to finish," Dean said, taking a step back.

"Sit down at the table," John said quietly, and watched his son until Dean started to move into the kitchen. "Don't move from that spot. I mean it."

"Yeah, ok," Dean said as he sank tiredly down into a chair. He needed more coffee or something. It was tempting to just slink down the hall and lay down for a few hours, but he knew that wasn't doable right now. He had obligations and responsibilities which made sleep a luxury he just couldn't afford. He looked up as his father plunked a red bag down onto the table and he sighed. His hands shook as he tried to remove his father's jacket, but it was John who gently pulled away the soft fleece and dropped it onto the floor.

John knelt next to his son. "Gotta get your shirt off. Ready?"

"Sure," Dean said easily even as he tensed, knowing it was going to hurt. He could feel the dried blood on his chest already making his shirt stick to the open wound. He took a deep breath and clenched his jaw shut as he braced for the pain. He knew it was coming as soon as his father took hold of his shirt, and he wasn't disappointed.

Fresh pain ripped across his chest as the shirt tore at the wound where it had started to seal shut. He could hear himself yelling through clenched teeth, and he hoped it wasn't too loud. He could feel pressure against his chest and it made it feel as if it had been lit on fire by kerosene.

The back door slammed open. "What the hell is going on in here!" Bobby demanded as he hurried into the kitchen. His face was red and he was sweating from the heat from the forge.

"Take it easy," John said.

Dean wasn't sure who he was talking to as he tried to get his pain response under control.

"Well, hell," Bobby growled as he took in the sight at the kitchen table. He moved past them and poured himself some coffee. "You do that to yourself boy?"

With his eyes closed to help calm down Dean merely nodded. It was beginning to ease up and he opened his eyes.

John pulled away the bloody towel and set it aside, then probed at the wounds. "Done a bang up job here Dean, but your chest isn't too bad," he said quietly.

"What?" Dean asked through clenched teeth at the renewed pain.

"Well there are some gashes, but I don't think they'll require stitches. The bleeding's slowing already," John said, and turned his attention to his son's arms. "These will be a bit trickier."

Dean glanced down at his arms and saw pieces of glass sticking out of his forearm. "Great," he mumbled.

Bobby left and returned a moment later with his first aid kit. It was more like a large box, and had been since the Winchesters had shown up months ago hurt from previous hunts. They had been hurt on the hunt Bobby had needed help with and he'd quickly run out of supplies. Just after they'd left and Pastor Jim had been by to re-consecrate the salvage yard against evil, he'd gone out and gotten a huge amount of medical supplies because he just never knew when the Winchester family were going to show up hurt.

"Here," Bobby said as he put the box down onto the table then sat down on the other side of Dean.

Both men took hold of one of Dean's arms and started to work on him.

"You know you could've given me some whiskey or something," Dean ground out as they started to dig into his wounds.

"If you hadn't taken on that car door you wouldn't need the belt of whiskey," Bobby said calmly as he pulled out the shard of glass, and immediately put a cloth over the wound to stop the new bleeding.

Dean frowned at him. "Thought I was alone," he said then clenched his eyes closed and tried to breathe through the pain.

"You're never alone here, boy. Thought you knew that," Bobby said softly. "And calm down. It's just a bit of glass. Stop fussin' so much. They're barely scratches."

"I'll remember that the next time I have to remove something or stitch you up," Dean ground out.

"I'll bet you will," Bobby said, but noticed John had been steadily stitching the larger wound on the boy's other arm and was almost done. "Sides you're a little young for my old whiskey, Kid."

"Relax, Dean. We're almost done here," John said softly as he tied off a stitch, then started another.

"Fine," Dean said softly, and concentrated on breathing steady shallow breathing, just like his father had taught him to do after being injured as a child.

"See, all done here," John said as he tied off the last of the stitches. "Move your fingers for me."

Dean moved them as requested and then frowned. "They're kinda tingly," he said as he watched his father work on his wound.

When he was finished wrapping the wound with gauze, John pressed down around the stitches and then further down to his wrist. Satisfied when his oldest son flinched at the touches, he smiled. "You'll be good to go in a bit."

Bobby finished tying off the last of his stitches, wrapped Dean's arm in gauze and did the same touch test down the teen's arm. Satisfied, he packed the rest of the supplies back into the box. "Now, take a few more minutes if you need them. All you need to do is the lion's head and the amulet's done. Take the time if you need it, boy. I'll get the forge stoked back up so it'll be ready when you are."

Without waiting for an answer Bobby left the house.

After watching him leave John got up and washed his hands. He leaned up against the counter as he dried his hands. "If I were you I'd take the few minutes. You look beyond beat, son."

Dean was quiet for a minute before he looked up at his father. He wanted to say something, somehow put right how he'd acted in the last few hours, but he couldn't seem to say anything. He looked and felt miserable.

"He'll be fine, Dean."

"What if he's not?" Dean asked quietly.

"Finish the amulet. If it doesn't work then we'll figure out another plan. For now just believe it will work. That's all you need to do," John said.

Dean nodded, got up and headed back for the door. As he neared the bedroom, he stopped and looked into the room. He watched his little brother as he took deep even breaths, as though he were sleeping normally. He was, but he knew it was drugged induced. "It'll work. It has to. I'm not ready to lose you, Sammy," he whispered. Then he stood a little straighter and left the house.

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Sam stood on what he thought was a gravel road or field. Everywhere he looked he was surrounded by wispy fog. It wasn't heavy, he figured he could see through it a ways, but he couldn't seem to gauge distance. There were no marks or colours to make a solid judgment. All the rocks seemed to be the same small size so even they didn't help. Everything was a drab washed-out grey.

He'd never liked fog. It always made him feel trapped and vulnerable at the same time, and he hated how it swirled and moved around him. Not that he would say it out loud, but it always seemed to unnerve him.

He sighed heavily and sat down on the uncomfortable rocky ground. Sam knew he wasn't awake; he'd been stuck in places like this before. It was one of his usual places with nightmares. Sometimes he faced snakes slithering all over his body or dragons burning him over and over again, or the headless men had beating him with sticks or hurting him with swords. Another man, one that he thought he should know, but could never place, would throw rock salt at him and shoot at him with Dean's gun until he woke up.

But the ones that happened almost all the time were his about his father hurting him. Sometimes Bobby would show up as well and stand next to John. He would just shrug and say _happens sometimes. Good families just get bad seed or something. Just needs some retrainin' and some discipline is all._

Without fail though, Dean would be there at the very beginning of the nightmares. He never hurt him. He would just look down at Sammy before shaking his head in quiet disgust. He'd sigh tiredly, and softly say _what was the point. If Sammy couldn't even _try_ to do anything right what was the point of trying to protect him._ Then he'd walk away, disappearing into a misty fog that would begin to churn around Sammy leaving him fearful and afraid of what would come next.

Once in a while he surprised himself with something different. The end result was the same though. All those dreams had him running for his big brother for safety.

Sam waited with dread as he waited for what was going to happen to him this time. He hoped he would wake up before it got too bad.

0000000000000

The constant clanging, heat and smoke from the forge was beginning to get to Dean. The smoke burned his eyes and his lungs, the heat made him sweat under the heavy apron and gloves; and the clanging was giving him a massive headache that bordered on a migraine. His shoulders and arms ached with each swing of the hammer.

He was making good progress. The swords encased in a pentagram had been completed. Bobby looked like he had been proud of him when Dean had shown it to him. The six sided star had been completed and attached to the smooth side of the amulet.

Tiredly, he pulled off his gloves and picked up the knife out of the holy water. Without thinking and without even feeling the prick of his knife he watched the blood drip down to anoint the piece. Then he dropped the knife back into the holy water.

Dean put the unfinished amulet aside and grabbed another piece of iron and shoved it into the coals to get it red hot. He didn't step back as the sparks flew off the coals and landed on his bare hands.

"Jesus kid," Bobby said as he roughly pulled Dean back. "Watch what you're doin' or we'll be patching up even more of ya."

Dean nodded. "'Kay, Uncle Bobby. Sorry."

Light was just beginning to paint the sky with soft pinks, oranges and yellows. Dean dimly looked at it and frowned at it as if it shouldn't be happening.

"Come on, Dean. Get focused here," Bobby said as he put his hand on the teen's shoulder.

Dean grunted something in return and turned back to the coals.

"All right. You need a break or at least more coffee," Bobby said after watching Dean for a moment. The oldest Winchester had stood there staring into the bright coals and had done nothing.

"Coffee?" Dean repeated softly as he turned back to his uncle.

"Yeah coffee. Maybe even a nap," Bobby said.

"No. Just coffee," Dean said. "Black. No sugar."

"I know how you take your coffee kid," Bobby said. "Look you've been up, what, almost twenty-four hours before you took the wheel from you old man? Just how long did you think you could do this with that small amount of rest and bleedin' all over the place?"

"M'almost," Dean started to answer.

"Like hell you're almost done. You have one more piece for the amulet. Then you have to do the pouch. Then you have to do the ritual and be able to say the words. _Coherently_."

"Just coffee," Dean said defiantly then couldn't hold back a yawn. "No nap. Don't need the sleep. Just need the caffeine. Got any caffeine pills?" he asked as he rubbed his stomach through the apron.

"Dean," Bobby tried to break in, but the teen just kept talking.

"Don't need a nap. Need to wake up. I need to finish."

"How about coffee and a sandwich. A short break. Then you can finish."

Dean sighed softly. "Yeah ok, Bobby, but only after I finish the lion's head. Where's the punch?"

"Dean,"

"No. After I finish. The metal should be ready. Where's the punch," Dean said.

Bobby shook his head in exasperation, seeing the determination in Dean's exhausted eyes. "Fine," he said and went over to where he'd left it earlier on a chair and handed it to the teen.

"Thanks," Dean said as he put on a heavy glove, and grabbing the tongs, pulled the hot piece of iron out of the coals.

Bobby took a good look at the metal. "It's a good temp, Dean. See how it's already beginning to bend at the end? Get that piece into the press. It should fill the mould nicely."

Dean nodded as he put the metal into the press. He worked with the press for a minute before he put it into the bucket of water. Steam erupted from the bucket and he let it sit in the water for a minute before it brought it out and banged out the cooled iron onto the table. He worked a bit more iron into the fire so it could be attached to the rest of the amulet. As he waited for the metal to cool again he slipped off the gloves and cut another piece of his hand. He watched as blood dripped down over the lion's head.

"Good job, Dean. Just once more, buddy," Bobby said.

"Yeah," Dean said, his exhaustion colouring his voice.

Slowly Dean pulled out the metal, took a look at it, and put it back into the coals. He waited a few moments then pulled it out again. He nodded to himself before putting it up on the anvil. He began the arduous task of flattening out the piece to a sliver to get it small enough to use it to attach it to the rest of the pieces.

Every time he brought the hammer down the strike reverberated up his arm and into his shoulder. His arms, shoulders and back throbbed with the work but it helped keep him awake. Satisfied with the size he put it back into the coals to keep it hot and then put the small piece between the six sided star and then put the lion's head on top of it. Using the tongs Bobby passed him, he took a firm hold on the piece and shoved it back into the coals just long enough for the items to warm. Then he pulled it back out and put it immediately into the water fusing all the pieces together.

The final whoosh of steam flew up into his face and he scowled against the heat. He sighed as he brought out the piece and placed it back onto the anvil. He dropped the tongs to the ground, and just stared at the steaming metal. He pulled the knife out of the holy water and made the final nick. Almost in a daze he watched as the last few drops of blood dripped down onto the cooling metal making a small hissing noise on contact.

He looked up at Bobby, knowing he was done in more ways than one. "Take you up on that coffee now."

TBC...


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:**Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes:**This follows two previous stories so if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. There are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

I also just wanted to say that I have no real idea on how a coal forge or any kind of forge works. Even though I did do some research on the subject doing it this way just seemed to work better. Call it author's license or something. We are coming to the end of that by the end of this chapter.

I was still having issues posting so I'm hoping this goes through. I know I'm seriously behind on reviews so a great big hug and thank you to all of you who have taken the time to leave me a review. Now that I've got to keep a foot elevated I should have the time to catch up.

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 9**

Bobby told Dean to sit at the table and ignored the teen's comments about being able to look after getting a snack and coffee. Opening the fridge, he was surprised to find a plate of sandwiches already made and knew John had spent some time in there doing busy work to keep himself from watching over his oldest son working outside.

He took two sandwiches and put them on a plate. Then he filled a cup full of coffee and put them in front of Dean with orders to eat before he left the kitchen. Bobby headed down the hallway to check on the rest of the Winchesters. John had not come back outside, and Bobby knew exactly where the man would be.

John was sitting with his son, both of them asleep in the room. Shadow lifted her head off her paws and her tail wagged a little against the bed. She let out a soft whine as she yawned and then began to pant. Bobby looked down at her, knowing Dean would have left her there to watch over his little brother in his stead.

John shifted slightly, his head turned towards the new sounds in the room and he settled again in the chair. Bobby knew that if he kept standing there in the room John would wake, actually the man was probably partially awake now hovering somewhere between aware and dozing. Not wanting to disturb them, he silently turned around and went back to the kitchen.

The sandwiches were gone as was the coffee. Food and coffee never did last around the teen. He smiled at the sight before him. Dean had his arms crossed on the table and his head was cradled on top of them. Bobby wondered how comfortable that could be with the wounds that had been stitched closed earlier. But as the boy was asleep they couldn't have been bothering him that badly.

"Sleep well kid," Bobby said softly and headed for his own room for a little shut eye.

They really couldn't afford to waste time, but Dean was exhausted and it wouldn't do for something to go wrong during the ritual because the kid was too tired and lost focus. Giving the teen an hour or two's rest would be beneficial in the long run.

He set his alarm for two hours. Once they got some sleep, Dean wouldn't need to be pushed to work, he'd be all the better for it, and so would Bobby. Between the research and building the makeshift forge he'd been running for almost two days straight. A nap would go a long way for him too.

0000000000000

Dean stood in front of the rack of collars. There were nylon, leather, studded ones, chain ones, choke ones which made him shudder, and vinyl ones. He could see every colour imaginable but they were too bright or not enough colour, or the wrong colour or something. He wasn't even considering the choke or chain collars.

It was already making a hard decision even harder because out of all of none of them were good enough for Shadow because none of them were just right.

He sighed heavily for the umpteenth time. Dean had been given strict orders by his father a few days previous to not give Bobby a hard time and to be good. Both went without saying, especially since he was thirteen and an adult, in his mind anyway, but when Bobby brought him shopping with him he was told to find the dog aisle and a collar for Shadow. But he was pretty sure he couldn't do that. He just couldn't see any of them on his girl. None of them at all were right, could be right. He didn't know why, just that he didn't.

He frowned as he stared at the collars. Uncle Bobby wouldn't be much longer and he had to choose one. Dean jumped as a hand gently touched his shoulder and stayed there.

"Find one?" Bobby asked with a bit of a frown as the teen he considered his own son jumped slightly under his hand.

"No, sir. I don't know which one," Dean winced slightly as he looked up a bit apprehensively as he worried his bottom lip in his teeth. He wasn't sure if he jumped because he didn't realize it was Bobby coming towards him or if he was being stupid about the collar.

Things had been tense since his father had left. They had just supposed to stay for a few nights. It had been a loud drawn out argument in the living room while he and Sammy were in their room.

Dean had felt like their Uncle Bobby had been correct. Sammy had been down with the uber flu he'd been fighting for months.

Their uncle had insisted the boys stay at the junkyard for a bit. It had infuriated John, he needed his boys with him for the next hunt and the argument had been on. Dean had quietly ushered his glassy eyed little brother down to their room, noting his temp had gone up a bit but just touching the back of his neck. Knowing his little brother was feeling miserable, Dean had been content to just let him slowly run his fingers through Shadow's soft fur.

Dean felt torn because he was pretty sure his dad wasn't going to let them stay, even though he wanted to. Bobby's was safe, fun, and he had Shadow, but at the same time he knew his place was at his father's side helping with research and weapons maintenance. Dean found he couldn't just sit while the argument raged on. So he'd thrown their few possessions into duffels and waited for their father to stomp down the hall and order them into the car. He kept an eye on his little brother, and when his fingers really began to drag as he ran them through Shadow's fur, and his eyes struggled to stay open Dean suggested he get some sleep.

It had concerned Dean that he'd spoken to him a few times, and Sammy hadn't responded until he touched his forehead.

"Lay down Sam. Get some rest," Dean said softly.

Sam's shoulders slumped as he sniffled softly, just trying to get a smidgen of air through his nose, to no avail. His head fell back over his hunched shoulders and he looked miserably up at his brother. He huffed a little just trying to get a breath down that didn't cause him to start a coughing fit. "Leaving?" He asked.

Dean shook his head. "No. Not right now anyway. Just get some rest."

Sam snuffled again and took a huffing breath. It was if getting a breath into his lungs was a workout in itself. He looked down at Shadow who thumped her tail on the bed.

"C'mon Sammy. Just for a little bit," Dean coaxed gently, and tried to ease his brother to lay back.

"N..no," Sam said as he shook his head a little and grabbed his brother's forearm. "You'll leave with dad and I don't wanna stay without you. Please, Dean."

Dean almost smiled at the full on puppy-eyed look his brother was trying to use on him probably without even knowing. It was way harder to resist when Sam was sick, but it was the panic in his eyes that kept Dean from seeing it as a ploy. "Not gonna happen. I'm not going anywhere. If I'm not here when you wake up I'll be here, in the living room or with Bobby on the grounds. Not leaving you behind, buddy. Not a chance of that happening. I promise."

Sam nodded sleepily. "'kay," he mumbled as he allowed himself to be guided to lie back properly on the bed.

Dean pulled up the blankets around his little brother before sitting next to him, feeling helpless as the battle raged in the living room, but no longer feeling torn. They weren't leaving. Sammy was too sick, and really at times like this he seemed to listen only to Dean. He was cranky enough with the sniffles, sore throat, dizziness, chills and high fever. Dean knew that if he left it would make Sammy feel even more miserable and alone, in that state he certainly wouldn't listen to Bobby.

Dean had already decided they either left together or they stayed at Bobby's together and no matter how much his father needed him, Sammy needed him to stay. So that made the decision for him. They were staying regardless of what their father said.

He blinked as he looked at his uncle, surprised to see the grin on his face.

"It's ok," Bobby said easily. "Didn't think you'd like any of 'em. I sure as hell don't. Might have a little something in my shop that might interest you more."

"Yeah?" Dean asked, relaxing slightly

"Of course. Didn't expect you to choose any of this crap anyway. Wanted to give you the chance to look at it though," Bobby said, then pointed at some tins. "Grab a few of those wouldja? Different flavours. She's not been eating the other stuff I have for her. We'll see if she'll eat these ones. Persnickety little bitch," he growled but there was a fondness in his eyes that anyone who knew him could see.

Dean did as he was asked, and he hurried out to the car. He needed to get back to his little brother. Sam was old enough to stay on his own, but when he was sick and left alone he'd either sleep which was good or stay awake and not take anything. He'd once helped his father on a hunt with Sammy sick in the motel room and came back to him almost grey and staring at the wall. His fever had gone over a hundred and three and it had taken hours to get it back down.

"Relax, Dean. Sam's fine.

"Sure," Dean said with a slight shrug, trying to look like he wasn't worried.

Bobby just shook his head and got into his car. He sped all the way back to his home feeling just as worried about the youngest Winchester as the boy sitting next to him was.

Sam was snoring, completely covered by blankets in the bed.

Dean carefully pulled them back enough to touch his forehead. It was warm, but not overly so. Relieved, he pulled the blankets back up and went into the kitchen to help Bobby put away the groceries.

Whining and scratching at the door had his face lighting up.

"Go on and let her in."

"Thanks," Dean said already heading for the door. Knowing the no dogs inside rule always got broken for Shadow when he was there to visit. Otherwise he'd spend most of his time outside.

Shadow barked happily before she jumped up on Dean.

"Whoa, easy there," Dean said with a chuckle as he pushed her back and knelt down to give her a good petting. "Miss me? Sure you did," he said as he pulled back from her frantically trying to lick his face.

Bobby ignored them, but couldn't help the grin that teased his lips. "If you two are done with your little love fest over there, I've got something to show you in my shop."

Dean followed with Shadow by his side. His hand skimmed over her when they stepped into Bobby's shop and she sat down next to Dean and panted happily.

"Got it here somewhere," Bobby mumbled as he pawed through boxes of pieces of car, and another with parts of a weapon Dean couldn't identify from where he was standing, but there was a barrel of a gun, that he could see. He watched as his uncle opened drawers, fussed with boxes until he gave Dean a grin over his shoulder. "Got it."

"What? I mean aside from all this junk?" Dean teased.

"Watch it, boy," Bobby snapped at him. "Got a gold mine in parts here."

"Uh huh," Dean said as he knelt down to Shadow. "Gotta keep a better eye on him girl."

Shadow leaned her head up into Dean's hand.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Get over here," he growled.

Dean followed him over to a work bench and watched as his uncle pulled out strips of leather, some kind of tools that looked like small chisels and a few other things. "What's all this?" he asked as he picked up a tool that looked like a single hole punch that a teacher had in one of his classes at some point. They had been items for the next day's class, but they'd left that afternoon and he'd never seen it used.

"Ok, pay attention boy, cause I'm only gonna explain what these are once," Bobby said.

Dean immediately put down the tool he was holding onto and focused on his uncle's instructions. It took a while to go through what the tools were, what they were called and what they did. He tried a few pieces on smaller pieces of leather.

"Ok. Go to it, kid," Bobby said as he moved for the door.

"Hold on," Dean said softly, and asked a few questions before he let his uncle leave. Dean glanced down at the dog still at his side and smiled. He gave her a quick petting before he set to work.

It took a few hours for him to get the feel of the tools, how they would mark the material and get an idea of the design he wanted to use. He's always liked the infinity symbol and tried that a few ways until he decided to use a Celtic knot like design instead. He marked the design over the long strip of leather before holding up against Shadow. He let her sniff at the leather and gave her another petting as she licked at his hand.

The edges were still rough, and the design wasn't quite straight wobbling slightly in different places over the leather, but he was ok with it. He wondered about the edges and went in to talk to Bobby about it.

He found Sam sitting on the couch, eating chicken soup and watching TV. His eyes were still glazed as he glanced slowly up at Dean, and then back to the TV.

"He woke up looking for you, but I assured him you were still here he agreed to eat a little soup," Bobby said.

"He take his meds?"

"Nope. Ornery little cuss," Bobby grumbled before he went back into the kitchen. then shoved two pills and a glass of water at Dean. "You're up."

"You get a hold of the doc?"

"Yeah. He'll be here tonight to check on him. He was coming over anyway for some other things," Bobby smiled. "You'll love his car, kid. She's a thing of beauty."

Dean nodded before he went into the living room and spent a lot of time coaxing the pills into his little brother, then sat with him while he finished his lunch. "Now stop giving Bobby a hard time."

"'M not," Sam pouted.

"Yeah right, dude, and I'm the Easter bunny," Dean mumbled.

"Shut up," Sam said grumpily.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Dude, I'm in Bobby's shop just finishing up something. You ok if I go back out or would you like me to stay?"

Sam pursed his lips for a minute before he yawned. "I'm ok. You can go."

"Yeah? 'Cause I'll stay if you need me to,"

Sam shook his head a little before he blinked in succession.

"Hey, stop that. You're just making yourself dizzy. Cut it out," Dean said as he put a grounding hand on his brother's arm.

"Sorry," Sam said quietly. "I'm just gonna watch TV. You'll come back in soon?"

"Yeah, man. Just needed to ask Bobby a question. Might be done anyway... We'll see. Stop being so friggin morose. It's the flu, dude. Buck up."

Sam sneezed three times in succession, one hand going to cover his mouth, the other rested on the side of his head. "I hate you."

Dean smiled. "Yeah I know you do."

Sam leaned over and put his head on his shoulder. "'M fine. You can go."

Dean felt the shiver rack his little brother's body. He sighed before he pulled the blanket from off the back of the couch, and covered both of them with it. He shifted enough to put his arm around Sam's shoulders. "Get you warmed up first before I go out, ok?"

Sam nodded against his brother's shoulders as he watched TV. No more than five minutes later he as sound asleep again.

"He's not happy," Bobby said with a bit of a frown.

"Been sick for a while now, Bobby, you know that," Dean said, then worried his bottom lip in his teeth for a minute. "It's been... They're not..." He sighed then closed his eyes and rested his head against the couch back. "Sam has these moments where he refuses to listen to dad, dad won't even try to ease up on him, and it's like they're buttin' heads every five minutes."

"Can't be easy," Bobby said quietly. "Bein' in the middle all the time."

Dean opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "It sucks," he murmured, then sighed softly. "It'll get better. It has to," he whispered.

"Both stubborn and bull headed," Bobby said.

Dean turned his head towards his uncle, and just looked at him. Bobby didn't talk about things like this. It kinda creeped him out, and had the sudden urge to say "Christo."

Bobby gave him a small smile, then shook his head. "So, did ya finish it?"

"Kinda," Dean said and gave himself a mental kick. Bobby didn't need to hear his petty problems. Man did enough by letting them stay with him while Sam recouped. He reached into his pocket, careful not to jostle his little brother too much, and handed Bobby his work. "It's a bit rough on the edges..."

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, but this is fine. It won't fray unless she starts chewin' on it. ... This is good work, Dean. Is this what I think it is?" He asked as he pointed at a spot on the collar.

Dean flushed slightly and nodded. "Just wanted her to be protected," he said softly.

Bobby grinned and nodded. "Then it's just fine." He wondered if Dean knew what the symbol meant, aside from protection. He wasn't about to tell him it also meant belonged to, or connected to. It wouldn't make a difference, Shadow had bonded to the kid first and foremost. Didn't listen to a damn command he gave her with Dean around. She always glanced at him for confirmation anyway.

Shadow came into the room, licking her muzzle after finishing her food. She jumped onto the couch right next to Dean, and put her head in his lap.

"Hey, girl," he said softly. "Made something for you."

Bobby handed back the new collar to Dean, and watched as the teen put it around Shadow's neck. "It's a bit big for you," he said, and put one end through the slide piece to keep it in place.

Shadow whined, shook her head, then pushed her nose into Dean's chest before she whined and shook slightly.

"Easy, girl, it's alright," Dean said as he stroked her fur. "It stays on. Gotta make sure people know you belong here, and keep you protected if something happens. Hey did you get the license and tag thing?" he asked Bobby as he continued to calm Shadow.

"Yeah. We'll add those tonight, and put some holes in it. I've got a few proper buckles that it will keep it on her better, but it'll hold for now," Bobby said. "She may grow a bit more yet. It'll be fine."

0000000000000

The sun was shining brightly over the salvage yard. The forge had mostly cooled down, but every now and then a small wisp of smoke rose from the coals.

Dean mumbled in his sleep about dog collars at the table and shifted in his chair. He tried to move away from a stream of light coming in the kitchen window. His head slipped off his arms and onto the table; it wasn't the soft contact with the hard table that woke him, it was the pain that suddenly started to register on his arms from where the stitches were.

Groggily, he sat back up in the chair and looked around him. He scowled trying to figure out when he'd fallen asleep in Bobby's kitchen. Wondering, in the post dream haze, where Shadow was and why wasn't she scratching at her new collar, even as he realized that he'd dreamed about something from at least four years ago.

Taking a deep breath, he took in the stillness of the morning. The clock on the wall showed six twenty-seven in the morning. The dregs of his dream flittered away as he scowled at the wall clock. How could they let him sleep at the table all night?

Dean sighed, and considered moving to the living room couch to go back to sleep. He glanced over and saw the inviting, and more importantly free, couch. Sighing, he slowly began to rise. As he took a shuffling step towards the couch the memory of the last several hours came back to him with an alarming clarity. He was suddenly wide awake, and hurrying down the hall to check on his little brother.

As he entered the room he shared with Sammy, he stopped short at what he saw. Sam was still there and looking like he was sleeping peacefully. His father was sitting on the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard with a hand on Sammy's chest. It was something his father did when he was beyond exhausted, but couldn't leave his boys due to illness or injury. The hand on the chest would allow John to get some rest and keep tabs on his son at the same time. It was a method Dean had used time and again with Sam too. Kid got sick an awful lot when their dad was away, and he had to sleep sometime. Dean found that it also seemed to sooth Sammy at times as well.

The sight before him made him relax slightly. His panicking heartbeat slowed down a little, and he took a few slow breaths to calm himself further. Knowing Sammy was in good hands with their father on one side and Shadow at the end of the bed snoring quietly, he could focus at the task at hand.

All he had to do was find Bobby, the book and get down to business again.

He quietly went back into the kitchen intent on getting a quick cup of coffee. It was cold but it would have to do. Dean downed it in one go, and put the mug into the sink. He was going to go outside to get the book from where he'd last seen it near the forge. But before he could get to the door, he spotted the worn-down old book on the coffee table.

He sat down on the couch and carefully opened the book to the marked page. He grinned as he picked up the green woven Celtic knotted bookmark with some kind of pendant on the end of it. Dean knew hardly anything about Celtic lore but Bobby had an amazing library of stuff and was sure it was something important.

He gently put the bookmark onto the table and began to read the ritual he had to perform on his little brother.

As he read, he found it had some of the same elements he'd done with Sam on his own to help exorcise the demon from John. But there were a lot of other things he had to do. He had to use a silver knife, lots of herbs, fire and holy water. It was a lot but doable. The good part was he had to cut himself more than Sam, which meant he wouldn't have to hurt his little brother too much during the process. Dean knew it could have been far worse, but he did hope Sam didn't have to be awake for any of it. It was bad enough he would have to intentionally harm him, even if it was to help heal him, it would be better if the kid had no memory of it. Sam suffered from nightmares all the time, some from the ritual they performed on their father. He didn't need to add to his catalogue of constant nightmares.

As he scanned the words, he knew that this would end the infection that had been festering in his little brother since the blood ritual that had been done on his father. The amulet he'd been working on at the forge would keep him safe from anything else getting into him while his soul healed for months it would take. Longer if the kid kept it untouched in its pouch around his neck.

Dean turned the page, and a slip of paper with Bobby's handwriting fell out of the book. His gut began to churn as he read and he felt sick as he finished reading the notes.

"It's a last resort, Dean," Bobby said softly from where he stood watching the teen from the hall.

Dean looked up in surprise. He hadn't heard the man come down the hall.

"I'm sure the ritual in the book is going to work. It's a just in case. It's our safety net," Bobby said at the fearful look on the teen's face.

"Bobby... I... This is..." Dean started to say as he pointed at the paper, but couldn't seem to form a sentence around his jumbled and rushing thoughts.

"If it comes down to it, your father and I will perform this ritual," Bobby said gruffly as he came into the room and sat next to the teen. "I would do it, or I'm sure your father would, but you need to understand that the connection between the two has to be intensely strong. I'm afraid that if your father and I tried we wouldn't be visible inside Sam's nightmares enough to help."

"Yeah, but this? Can it even be done? Should it be done?" Dean asked.

"I know it's intense. Sam needs to help us as well," Bobby said gently. "But he isn't comfortable around me, and hasn't been for a while. He still has nightmares about your father. It's about trust and feeling safe with someone, Dean. We'd all do anything for Sam, but at the end of the day it's you he looks to for guidance, security and the one he loves the most. It needs to be you, boy."

Dean looked away. Bobby words had made sense to him. His little brother did have issues with his father and with Bobby. Sammy did come to him for just about everything, and it seemed he always had. No matter how much this freaked him out, he did know. "I know but what if it doesn't work?" he asked quietly.

"You just let your dad and I worry about that, ok? Now you ready to finish up?" Bobby asked.

"I thought it was done?" Dean asked.

"Well, yeah, the talisman has been finished. Needs the pouch to go with it," Bobby answered.

"Right. The pouch," Dean said as he got up and followed Bobby out the door. He thought he'd been through one of the hard parts, doing a little sewing was going to be easy. How different could sewing up cloth be from stitching a wound?

A lot apparently. The silk thread was slippery and the needle was almost impossible to thread. After a few minutes of trying his mind started to focus on all the things that could go wrong making his fingers shake.

"How do you stitch up a wound so fast and efficiently, yet threading a needle is giving you trouble?" Bobby growled as he handed him a flimsy piece of metal with a thin diamond shaped wire at the end.

Dean took it and frowned. "What's this?"

"It's a pony," Bobby said sarcastically, and as the teen stared up at him with a clueless expression he sighed. "It's what you use to thread the needle."

"Oh," Dean replied, and looked back down at the small alien looking object in his hand to the thread in the other. Then he looked up at Bobby. "Uh, not really my forte here."

"Oh, for the love of..." Bobby growled again then snatched the two items out of his hands.

"Your father told me you took home economics in school. Cooking _and_ sewing," Bobby said.

"Well sure. All the hot chicks take those classes," Dean said with a small smile and a twinkle in his eyes, then shrugged as he turned serious. "I didn't end up doing any sewing though. We moved on too fast each time. Each school started me in cooking classes."

"Uh huh," Bobby said as he demonstrated how it was used. Then he took the thread out of the needle, and handed both items back to the teen.

"Well, why didn't you give this to me in the first place?" Dean asked grumpily. "You could've saved me some time."

"Dean, you're a crack shot and have perfect vision," Bobby growled right back at him. "This is a tool for old women and people who can't see!"

"Oh... So you use it?" he asked with an innocent expression on his face.

Bobby cuffed him upside his head.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, but was grinning.

"S'what you get for being a smartass. Now sew," Bobby ordered.

"Yes sir," Dean said smartly, and set to work.

0000000000000

Dean and Bobby went back into the house when the pouch had been completed and a cord had been constructed out of the silk thread braided and knotted into a cord. They found John awake, and sitting next to the bed in a chair.

"Does Sammy need to be awake for this?" Dean asked softly as he saw his brother still hadn't moved an inch since he'd put him to bed the night before.

"No. Might be better if he's asleep anyway," John answered softly.

"Then let's get this over with," Dean said. "In case that stuff begins to wear off."

Bobby looked over at John. "We'll get what you need," he said, and left the room with the boy's father.

Dean let them pass then moved over to the foot of the bed. He ran his fingers through the dog's soft fur. "Good girl, Shadow," he murmured, then spoke the words that had kept her there.

"Already said that last night when she wouldn't let me near Sammy," John said as he brought in a handful of items. "She hasn't moved from that spot though."

"I'll put her outside for a little while," Bobby said as he returned with a few containers and put them down on the nightstand. "Come Shadow."

Shadow stood up, stretched and whined as she yawned. Then she moved closer to Dean. She rubbed her head against his stomach and whined softly.

"I think she wants to stay, don'tcha girl," Dean said as he patted her gently. The soothing motion helped settled his nerves slightly. "But you can't stay while we do this. I'll come and get you after."

"Shadow," Bobby said as he tapped his hand against his thigh. "Come here girl."

Shadow growl-barked, then got down from the bed and followed Bobby out of the room.

Dean sat down next to his little brother, and put his palm over his chest. He didn't move or speak for a moment, he just looked down at his little brother. "I'm going to look after this Sammy, just like I promised. You're going to be ok," he whispered.

Bobby returned a minute later with a card table and helped John set up the items needed for the ritual on it.

"Dean," John said, and put his hand on his son's shoulder. "We're ready. Bobby will go through it with you and then you can start."

The sixteen-year-old nodded and focused his attention on Bobby as the man began to talk. He went through the entire ritual, what was to be used in what order and what needed to be said.

"Dean, the index cards are here to help you. Use them. There's been no time to memorize anything and all the words need to be spoken exactly as they are written down," John said.

"Now we can assist you. We can hand you items and if you get confused as to what comes next we can get you back on track. But only you can do the actual ritual, say the words and most importantly only you can touch Sam. It has to be your energy and his energy combining to fight the infection. Do you understand?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," Dean said.

"Good," John said.

"I get it, all right? Can we just get it over with before Sammy wakes up?" Dean asked.

"I know you're tired and you want this finished. I know Sammy being out this long is making you uncomfortable. We've got time, Dean, so don't rush it. Take it slow. You don't want to miss anything or say part of the ritual out of order," John said softly. "Sammy will be just fine."

Dean nodded.

"We can help prepare your brother, but you need to start it just like we discussed. Are you ready?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah," Dean said softly as he reached out and took the bear from his brother's arms. Then stepped away from the bed. He went over to the table to look over the items he would be using shortly while his father and uncle took the sheets and blankets down to the end of the bed and got Sam out of his t-shirt. John held his son up in a sitting position and watched Bobby remove the pillows. Gently, he laid his son back down on the bed.

"Ok, son. We're ready when you are," John said.

Dean nodded as he scanned the table once more. He picked up the bowl with holy water and the soft cloth that was beside it. He took a deep breath as he stared down into the water at his own reflection then looked over at his father. "I'm ready."


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a bit after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

**Chapter 10 notes:** We're down to the ritual folks. This is not meant to offend in any way shape or form. Also I didn't research it in anyway so it is not based on any rituals there may be out there for whatever there are rituals for. When you get down the italics Dean is speaking Latin, but if I actually put it in Latin very very few would've understood it. So he's speaking in Latin. Just saying because it looks a little funny. If you're not sure about the ritual part it's nowhere near what Sam went through in Shadows, but if you're worried about skip this chapter and hopefully we'll see you next week. :)

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 10**

The ritual had to begin with a ritual bath. Dean had washed his brother's body from the top of his head down to his waist, and had just handed the bowl and cloth to his father. When he'd run the cloth over Sam's wounded palm, little bits of smoke had risen from the cut. It had surprised him, but he'd kept on going.

"Fire, Dean," Bobby prompted softly.

Dean moved over to the table where a medium sized metal bowl was at the table with a pile of small kindling sat next to it. He glanced down at the index card in front of the bowl. He added a few pieces of wood, and then with the matches his father handed to him, he lit the fire. As the smoke began to rise in the room, he cleared his throat.

"_Fire consume the evil and use your flame to cleanse everyone and everything in this room_"

Then he cupped his hands around the smoke, and motioned it around his body. He glanced over at Bobby to make sure he'd done it right, and the man nodded. Then he motioned to himself and John. Dean stepped back and let the men do the same thing.

"Smudge," John said softly. "Three times."

Dean picked up the small package of dried herbs and lit it. A small flame grew on the end of it, and he blew it out. Dean made a full circuit of the room, including the bed his brother was lying in and went back to the table.

"Don't forget to make the smoke go around yourself, your father and me as well," Bobby said.

Dean nodded and walked around the room two more times before he put the smoldering herbs onto a ceramic plate. He looked over the table and then at his father for guidance.

"Add more wood to the fire. Second set," John said, motioning at the card on the table.

Dean went back to the fire and added a few more pieces of kindling to it. He picked up the silver knife that had been on the other side of the metal bowl, and ran it through the smoke three times. Then he let the smoke from the smudge go over the blade as well. Dean set the knife down next to the bowl as he read more of the notes. He picked up the first satchel of herbs Bobby had made up, and added them to the fire.

"_I call upon God to cleanse the evil within Sam. I call upon myself to protect, heal and shelter the one who chose me as protector from evil. I call upon Sam to fight this evil with all his strength and courage"_

Dean took a slight step back as the flame rose high, then settled again. He held his hands over the smoke for a moment letting it wrap all around them. He picked up a very small bowl of loose herbs and put them into the bowl of holy water. Then he picked it up, and paused for a minute.

"What is it, son?" John asked quietly.

"It says to anoint Sammy's hands with holy water, but the book said I had to use blood," Dean said.

"Yeah, well, if your blood has healing powers then go for it. The holy water will work out fine. This way you cut yourself and your brother only once," Bobby said softly.

"Ok," Dean answered as he turned to his brother. He dipped two of his fingers into the water, and after a glance at the card his father was holding, he put the symbols onto Sammy's hands, forehead and chest. Then put the bowl down.

"Now do all that again two more times. Herbs and cards are in the order you need to use them," John said.

Dean nodded and got to work. After he made the final symbol on his brother's chest with holy water, he put the bowl back down on the table. His vision blurred for a moment and he closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, then looked over the table again but found he'd lost his place. Frowning, he glanced up at his father and at Bobby.

"Ok. You're doing great, Dean," John said, seeing the exhaustion and uncertain look on his oldest son's face.

"Add more wood to the fire," Bobby said, then pointed to another bowl. "Add the oils and herbs that are in there. It'll flare up, but don't step back from the flame or the smoke."

Dean looked at the card, then looked sharply at Bobby. "I thought..."

"No matter what you see after the smoke flares up do not stop the ritual. The flame will not hurt you just keep going and remember the cards are in order. This will work as long as you focus all your attention on Sammy. Don't stop."

Dean stared at Bobby for another minute before he nodded and did as instructed. A burst of green fire erupted out of the bowl and encompassed the teen for a moment before subsiding back into the bowl. Dean froze for second while it enveloped him, giving him a warm tingly sensation like pins and needles all over, and then was gone just as quick. When he glanced back at the men in the room they were angry, his father was shouting at Bobby and gesturing at Dean. But he couldn't hear them. He looked down at the cards and took the knife in one hand and ran it through the fire and its ashes.

He could hear the metal almost sing as it ran through the hot coals and could see some of the oil coat the base of the blade. He dipped it in holy water and counted to nine before taking it out. He ran it through the flame one more time.

"_Fire consume and eradicate the evil this blade must touch and extract it from the wound."_

He turned and looked down at his little brother. He could see the symbols he'd drawn in holy water glowing against Sammy's pale skin. As gently as he could he picked up Sam's hand and gasped.

Sammy's hand was blackened as if it had been bruised to the extreme. The bruising went almost all the way to his elbow. With a steadying breath, he took the knife and slashed it down the palm of his little brother's hand, taking great pains to only re-open the wound and tried not to cut into more of his tender skin.

He couldn't help but stare as dark puss oozed out and dripped down onto the bed. He took a steadying breath, and made himself continue.

Taking one of the last two bowls of herbs, he put some into Sam's wound. Then he slashed his own palm open. As he looked down at the blood beginning to pool on his skin he cleared his throat. He put the last of the herbs into his open wound.

"_I will fight the evil beside you, with you and for you."_

He took his palm and Sam's palm and held the wounds together.

Feeling dizzy he sat down on the bed. As he tried to keep their hands together, he glanced over at the last card. He reached into the last bowl he hadn't used and took the cold wet strip of cloth out. Dean slowly bound his palm to his little brother's palm. Smoke began to rise off their hands, and Dean could feel heat burning in his hand snaking up his arm.

The room tilted and spun around him. He tore the wet cloth in half at the end and used it to secure it around both hands. He could still see his father and uncle having a yelling match across the room. He started as the bed thumped slightly and Shadow was suddenly snuffling at his face.

"No Shadow. Down," he ordered softly as he closed his eyes for a second as the room tilted dangerously around him. Shadow whined softly in his ear.

It felt as if he was losing all the strength in him. With shaking hands, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the amulet. Slowly he pushed Shadow back as she sniffed at it. Sluggishly he pulled Sammy's head up and pulled it over his head and made sure the pouch rested just over his heart. Shadow whined again, and licked the back of Sam's hand.

"_I am the protector and confidant. I am healer and story weaver. I am brother and friend. Before, now, and always."_

Dean whispered the words in Latin before the card seemed to get too heavy to hold on to. He dipped his fingers into the holy water again and drew symbols over the back of his hand then over his little brother's bruised one. He tilted his head to the side to avoid the burning smoke off of Sammy's infected skin.

Shadow came towards him again, and he pushed her back without looking away from his little brother. "Down!" he ordered, glancing over at the card again for the right words.

"_Allow me to enter to into your realm. I am your protector chosen by you and here in your time of need."_

"I'm here Sammy. Let me help you," he whispered.

His body slumped back to the headboard behind him. Shadow suddenly filled his line of vision licking at his face. Lethargically he tried to push her away, but she sat next to him and put a paw onto his chest. Movement behind her had him looking around her. He watched as his father took a swing at Bobby as the room seemed to flash a brilliant white purple. Dean's eyes closed as the room tilted around him the final time, something warm and wet moved over his cheek as everything went black.

0000000000000

John turned to look at Bobby. "Want to explain to me what just happened here?"

Bobby met John's steely gaze. "Only what I had to," he snapped before looking back at the bed. Shadow had slumped down next to Dean on the bed, precariously close to the edge.

John shook his head as he motioned to his sons. "This was not in the original plan. Dean was not supposed to pass out or get enveloped in a green flame. What the hell did you do?" John asked, and when he got no response he ran a hand over his face. "We've been friends long enough that I know you would never endanger my boy's lives without reason. So just tell me what happened here."

"Sam's pulse was getting weaker and erratic the longer he slept. The infection was gaining ground because the sleeping draught would have allowed the infection to get even worse. Hell I wasn't sure he would wake up. So I combined the rituals. Dean's not only started the fight against the infection, but he's also gone in to get Sammy back and by the look of it Shadow decided to tag along for the ride," Bobby said

"Thought you put her out?"

"That dog gets into whatever she wants. Either the door didn't latch or she got in another way," Bobby said and shook his head. "Found her in my shop two months back sleeping next to the bag Dean left here the last time. Doors were locked and I couldn't find a point of entry. The outside walls were all scratched up and well it beats me how she got in but she did. Find her inside some mornings in this room with doors and windows locked. She's a crafty one."

John just raised his eyebrows and frowned.

Bobby cleared his throat. "The herbs he put into their wounds some had healing powers, and the others would have bridged their dreams together. They both have control, but as Dean is fighting to get into Sam's dream, Sam can lock him out."

John shook his head. "Sammy wouldn't do that."

"It's not that simple. Do you know what Sam has nightmares about?" Bobby asked.

"Not really. Dean looks after them," John answered.

"Yeah he does. Which means he could have nightmares about all of us, about anything," Bobby started to explain. "Look, if you were having a dream and your boys were in it would you believe it was really them?"

"Course not," John said. "It's just a … Oh."

"Yeah. Oh," Bobby said. "Dean will have to convince him that he's really his big brother coming to help."

"We're screwed."

"Not necessarily," Bobby said. "If anyone could get through to your youngest it would be Dean, wouldn't it."

"Yeah, it would," John answered.

"So if the herbs did what they should have, hopefully Sammy is letting Dean help him out right now."

"And Shadow? How does she fit in to all this? She didn't get any of the herbs and wasn't included in the ritual."

Bobby scratched the side of his beard for a second. "Animals have been known to dream walk. There's tons of lore on it for almost every culture out there. You know, just as well as I do she's bound to Dean. Hell she chose him before he made her the collar and you know it. That connection could be enough for her to dream walk along side of him. Best guess anyway."

John shook his head. Dream walking dogs, his children sick, and Dean going into his brother's dreams. It made no sense, but then again there wasn't a whole lot in his life that made sense at the best of times.

John sat down on the end of the bed, and just took a moment to process the information. "Think it worked?" he asked, making sure he didn't touch either of the boys or the dog.

"I don't know but I hope so," Bobby replied.

"What do you think he saw?" John asked.

"Only Dean can tell you that when they come back," Bobby said. "But usually it's either somewhat like being on acid or a warped version of what's surrounding them. Sam would have been the only thing that stayed the same. Maybe Shadow too."

John was quiet for a few more minutes. "Let's say Sammy doesn't allow Dean in to help him. Or Dean can't get him to wake up, or come out of this, or whatever. What then?"

"They could all die. John you need to understand this was the only way," Bobby explained hastily. "We both know Sammy would have only responded to Dean."

"I know that. Did you tell Dean the dangers of doing this?" John asked.

"No, but he'd seen the notes in the book earlier, and I didn't think it would stop him for a second," Bobby said and paused for a moment.

"No, it wouldn't have," John said grimly. Dean going to Sam's rescue was nothing new regardless if it was nightmares, the school bully or just keeping an eye over his younger sibling while John was away.

"Give it some time. If this is going to work they boys should wake in a few hours," Bobby said.

"And if they don't?" John asked.

Bobby looked over at John. "One of us has to go in for them."

John looked from his friend to his boys. "Won't that be fun."

TBC…


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer**: Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes**: This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a bit after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

**Chapter 11 notes**: My apologies that I have been absent for several weeks. I have gotten a wonderful job which I love but it will impact posting. I promise I won't leave you hanging for too long, as the story is basically complete, but I probably won't be posting weekly.

I hope you enjoy the following and I really hope the following chapter makes sense.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow****  
Chapter 11**

Sam didn't have long to wait for his nightmare to begin. The ground had suddenly been covered with spiders, scarab beetles and ants making him swiftly get to his feet. Not that it had scared him much. They just creeped him out the way they scrambled over the ground with their little legs, and the quiet noises they made. The jumping spiders always sent a chill down his spine.

As short as he was in comparison to his brother and father, he was a giant to these small creatures. He almost smiled as he stomped down on the bugs and cringed as he could hear tiny high pitched wails as they died beneath his feet. He could feel them begin to crawl up his legs and felt them begin to bite him. The little stings got up as far as his knee before he couldn't take it, and it didn't seem so simple anymore. He bent over and began slapping at his pants, even though he couldn't see anything.

As suddenly as they appeared they were gone. He breathed a sigh of relief even though a few of the small dead, or almost dead, and twitching bodies could still be seen on the ground around him. He stepped away from them just in case they weren't dead after all and decided to come after him again.

He stilled as he heard a high pitched roar in the distance and he stood up straighter. "No. Not the dragon," he whispered to himself as he searched the sky above. He could see the small outline of the beast in the far distance and knew it wouldn't take long for it to get to him.

The dragon was almost as large as six Impala's parked end to end; and five of them across. He'd never found a way to fight off the dragon, because he always woke up before it got close enough to hurt him. The heat and burn of the fire was enough to make him wake and be running for his brother before he was fully awake. But this time he was afraid he might have to find the way to escape.

As he contemplated the dragon, he didn't feel the slithering of the snakes over his shoes. A tickling on his foot made him look down. His eyes widened as far as they could go. "Snakes. I hate snakes," he whispered.

He was surrounded by hundreds of them. They writhed and curled over themselves. Sam couldn't see any way around them. His stomach started to churn as one began to slowly climb up his leg.

He tried to take a calming breath, remembering what his brother had told him about staying still. They wouldn't bite him as long as he stood still. They'd slither away and leave him alone. That had kept him nightmare free of snakes for a few weeks until he'd seen Indiana Jones. Then they were back in full colour, bigger, and with huge fangs.

"Nnnnoooo!" he screamed as he kicked out with his foot, and several of them went flying through the air.

A quiet rattling sounded all around him and he whimpered. He knew what was coming next. Flashes of pain around his feet and lower legs erupted as several snakes shot out and bit him.

Sam cried out as the pain burned up his legs. They gave out and he collapsed to the floor. The snakes began biting him all over. His hands flailed, trying to defend against the attack but it just seemed to increase the barrage until all he could feel was all encompassing pain.

"Dean! Help me please," he cried out as he clenched his eyes closed. He felt another bite on his jaw as tears began falling down his cheeks. He didn't understand. He always woke up just before, or just after, the first bite. "Deeeeaaann!"

Then suddenly it was quiet and everything was still. The pain was gone and nothing hurt. He was lying in a field of cool grass and soft moss. He uncurled from the position he'd been in, stretching out onto his back. It was warm from the bright sun above, and a gentle breeze washed over him.

Slowly he made himself sit up and look himself over. There was no indication that he'd been bitten by anything. He sighed softly as he looked around the field. There was an old fence post, but the actual fence looked to have rotted away a long time ago. Next to that was a worn dirt road, barely two deep scars, like marks in the dirt. Farther in the distance was a mountain that dipped and curved along the horizon as far as he could see.

As he stood there he realized he'd been there before. The serene country side hid the true danger that lurked there.

He quickly got to his feet, and started running down the old road. Sam didn't get too far. There was a roaring behind him and the ground shook violently. Looking over his shoulder he could see the jaguar-like animal running towards him. His mind tried to process what he was looking at. It was lithe like a jungle cat, but its colouring was blackish-blue fur that covered its body with small white spots. Its head was black as midnight and there were white horns that rose crookedly from its head. It wasn't quite the same but it reminded him of an animal he'd seen in Bobby's library that held Egyptian lore.

"Wake up!" Sam screamed at himself, and pinched his arm really hard. "Come on! Come on wake up!"

He tried slapping himself, running one of his jagged fingernails across his skin leaving red welts, but nothing worked. The animal swiftly closing in seemed surreal, but from what he'd learned already in this dream, it would still hurt if the animal got close enough to him, but nothing seemed to be waking him up.

The ground rumbled so hard beneath his feet he stumbled and went down hard. He could feel little rocks dig into the sensitive skin of his arm and he cried out in pain. Rolling onto his back he looked up at the huge four-legged beast that loomed above him. He blinked a few times not believing what he was looking at.

His heart went from hammering to stopping all together as it growled low in its throat and bared its teeth. It lowered its head and sniffed at him. It licked its jowls as it took a step forward.

Sam wanted to move, but he seemed to be frozen in fear. He wanted to run but his muscles seemed to be turned to lead, and wouldn't let him move.

The horned animal roared. Sam began to scramble back and the great cat-like creature pounced. Sam screamed as the beast put a paw over his chest and dug its nails into his chest.

A high pitched cry from above made the horned creature look up and take a step back as it sensed a new danger.

There was a great animal in the sky. It circled around them slowly descending as if coming from the heavens above.

It reared up on its back paws and clawed at the air as the bird swooped down at it. Before Sam's eyes the bird clamped its talons into the horned animal and with its powerful wings rose up into the sky with a wiggling mass under it.

Sam propped himself up on his elbows as he watched them rise into the sky. He looked down at his chest. His shirt was torn and little patches of blood had begun seeping into the material.

He was lifting up his t-shirt to inspect the damage when a mere second later he was back on the grey rocky field. The shirt in his hand no longer had the tears or the blood in it. He didn't hurt, but he still lifted the shirt to look at his chest. There were no wounds on him at all.

"Man, I gotta wake up," he mumbled to himself.

A high pitched roar in the distance made him freeze. "Dragon," he whispered and he looked all around himself for any kind of cover but found none.

He could hear wings flapping in the air, and he was lifted several feet into the air as the huge dragon settled down onto the ground. Sam fell back to the ground, felt his jeans tear and he gritted his teeth as he felt fiery pain around his knees.

Sam lifted his head to look at the dragon. It looked the same as before. It was huge and had blue scales that seemed to shimmer in the sun. He shivered as he watched it. It had breathed fire at him before, but he woke just as the heat of the flames reached him. He didn't think he'd be so lucky this time.

He watched the dragon carefully as he slowly got to his feet. Sam's muscles bunched with the need to move and his mind battled back to make sure he waited for the right time. As soon as the dragon opened its mouth Sam jumped to the side and narrowly missed being burned alive. He rolled onto his back and watched a line of fire stream over the top of him barely missing burning him. Sweat began to pour off his body and it stung his eyes.

The ground bucked and moved beneath his back, and he knew the dragon was close. Too close now. There would be no avoiding being burned alive now. He scrunched his eyes closed and waited for the inevitable. He didn't have to wait long. Fire wrapped around him and he imagined himself in a cool pool in a small dark cave.

Suddenly the flame was gone, and he was fighting to get to the surface of a cold dark lake. He burst through the surface and tread water for a moment, grateful for the cold water. Slowly he made his way towards shore. Never before in his nightmares had imagining being somewhere else worked, but it had this time.

As he got to the water's edge, he sat along it's rocky shore. The water slowly moved around him where he sat as if it were tidal water and not the contained lake it looked to be in the semi-darkness.

Somehow light glittered off the sides of the walls and he was content just to stay there for a while. There only sounds around him were the calming sound of the water and his own breathing.

Fog began to dance over the water and he stared at it. He felt exhausted and he just wanted to wake up. Dean would be there, and just his presence alone would make him feel safe again. But as much as he wanted his brother, he would never want to imagine him here in his nightmare. There was no way he wanted his older brother to go through what he went through in a night.

Sam felt detached fear as the fog began to grow and cover the water. He yawned and wondered what was hiding around in the water. If there was something in there, why it hadn't just attacked him in the first place?

He took the calm moment to look around. Aside from the contained lake it looked like there was a stream of water that ran from behind the fog down the side of the cave wall. Not far from where he was sitting in the water there was a large rock. Tiredly, he dragged himself to his feet, went over to it and sat down. His stomach growled loudly and he closed his eyes. He imagined a table in front of him full of his favourite foods, but when he opened his eyes there was nothing there.

"I want to wake up. I have to wake up right now," he said loudly, and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened his eyes a moment later he was still sitting on the rock on the semi-lighted cave. He sighed.

He pinched his arm hard enough to leave a bruise, but he continued to sit on the rock.

"Great. I can get myself away from a fire-breathing dragon, but I can't get myself to wake up or get breakfast," Sam said with a scowl as his foot kicked at the dirt. "Great. This sucks out loud."

"What would Dean or dad do?" he asked himself a few moments later. With a slight nod he knew the answer. "Check for injuries and then try to escape."

Aside from being a little chilled and wet he didn't seem to be injured too badly. He could see a dark stain on the bandage around his hand and sighed. Slowly Sam began to unwind the gauze around it. "This is never going to heal," he said sadly.

He didn't really look at it, but took the used bandages over to the small stream. "Hope this is clean."

He rinsed his hand off in the water and put the bandages in as well to try and clean them up a bit. Sam didn't have any clean bandages but he could try to clean these off to make them useful for a little while longer. It was wrong, and totally not clean, but it was a dream and not the actual wound itself he was working on. Or so he figured.

He pulled his hand out of the water, and frowned as he looked at it. It wasn't blood that had been oozing out of the wound, but something inky black with a slight silver tinge to it. Sam sat back on his heels and took the gauze bandage out of the water. Slowly he began to wrap the wound again.

He just knew having black ooze out of a wound was beyond bad. Worse than the red lines he remembered snaking up his brother's arms when Dean had been on life support. His fingers slipped on the wet gauze as he tried, and failed, to tie the ends up. He started shaking, his stomach felt like it had butterflies in it and the soft sounds of the water no longer calmed him.

He needed his big brother there more than anything at that moment. A tear slowly made its way down his cheek. "Dean, please wake me up. I don't wanna be here anymore," he whispered brokenly as he tucked the pieces of gauze in to keep the bandage secure.

There were crunching sounds on the cave floor and he looked up as hope bubbled up within him. Sam thought it could be his brother coming to his rescue. He tamped it down as fast as the thought and feelings started. No way could his brother be here.

It could be anything he'd dreamt of before dwarves, pixies, demons and he always dreamed of the real ones, not the cute ones from fairytales.

The footfalls got louder and louder. Sam carefully looked around. The wispy fog seemed to provide enough cover that whatever it was couldn't be seen yet. He hurried back and hid behind the rock he'd been sitting on. Carefully, he glanced around his hiding place and his heart all but stopped as he saw what was waiting for him.

It was the headless man. The top of its neck had jagged flesh, bright white crushed bone, and there was blood, lots of it, coming down around it as if it were a fresh wound.

Sam swallowed heavily as he pulled back and stared at the water in front of him. The headless man was new, and had started after he'd watched a horror movie where a guy's head had been taken off with a chain saw. Not that he actually seen it come off, or get anywhere near it happening. As soon as it was clear what was about to happen he'd put his hands over his eyes. When the sound got too much he'd literally burrowed himself into this brother's side with his fingers in his ears, his eyes clenched shut and all but begged Dean to turn it off.

He glanced around the rock again in time to see fresh blood oozed out of neck and little spurts of blood arc into the air.

Sam was frozen where he hid behind the rock, and watched in horror as the headless man tightened its grip on the jeweled sword. He raised it up with the flat part of the blade to its chest then quickly swished it to the side. It slowly raised its free hand and pointed at Sam, then turned his hand over and made the universal sign for come here.

Sam swallowed heavily and found he couldn't stand up or move. His breathing sped up and he tried to swallow. He wanted to run, hide, do something other than stand here and be target practice for the horror a few feet away from him.

When the headless man started to move towards him, Sam's mind blanked out as he began screaming for his big brother. His heart all but exploded in his chest with a mixture of terror and adrenaline as he ran from his nightmare.

The air shimmered around him, and he was back to the grassy field. As Sam looked around he realized he knew this place. Not from when he first started dreaming, but as a place he used to visit before in his dreams. He would run and play here. The things and people he wanted around him were here, and they were all happy. His nightmares turned the place into a mix of terror, hurt and demons.

As he looked around, thinking for the moment he'd be safe, he spotted the headless man. A mere second later he was sprinting away from the bloody monstrosity behind him. He took a glance over his shoulder to see how close it was and found he was several yards away, still walking in Sam's direction, but he seemed in no hurry to get to him.

Sam stumbled slightly and he turned to look for somewhere safe, already knowing there was no shelter here. His blood ran cold as he came to a sudden stop. Above him was the fire-breathing dragon. He looked between the headless man and the dragon trying to figure the odds and the best way to handle them.

Sam could only come to one conclusion - death by headless man's sword or by fire-breathing dragon.

Some days it just sucked to be him.

TBC...


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: **Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes: **This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense. Also this chapter won't make much sense without reading the previous on as well. It definitely continues right after the last one but it starts from a different POV. Also there is a lot of switching of POV's in this chapter I hope it makes sense to everyone.

That said there are some references here that might upset some, but nothing worse than what happened in the last two stories.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a lot after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue****  
****by Infinite Shadow****  
****Chapter 12**

Dean stood by a small pond that was surrounded by willow trees that provided shade in the cool breeze. He had no idea how he'd gotten to such a quiet and serene place. It certainly wasn't what he had expected to find in Sam's nightmare.

He took a deep breath as he looked around. Pollen floated around in the air and leaves were just coming to bear on the trees. Flowers were beginning to bloom around the water; dandelions and clover were coming into bloom in the grass around him. Even small birds could be heard singing in the distance.

Spring. It had to be. Not that it was a surprise in Sammy's dream. It was always the kid's favourite time of year.

A series of barks had him looking at the treeline in time to see a dog bounding out of them towards him.

"Shadow?" Dean said softly. Her tail was wagging furiously as she hurried up to him and jumped up on him as soon as she was close enough, knocking them both to the ground. He couldn't help but laugh as the dog began licking his face. "Ok! Ok, lemme up girl."

Shadow sat back on the ground, her jaw open as she panted and watched Dean openly.

Dean slowly got to his feet and scanned the area once again. There wasn't another person or animal in the distance that he could see.

He hissed as a sharp pain in his hand made him look down. Shadow was licking at his hand, He was bleeding freely from the palm of his hand, but as he brought it up to look closer he could see it just wasn't blood. There was an inky black stain in it as well. Frowning at it, he went over to the pond. The water looked pure, and crystal clear. So he dipped his hand into it and let out a quiet sigh of relief as it cooled the wound.

His other hand dug into his pocket for his pocketknife to tear away the bottom of his shirt for a makeshift bandage. He paused as his fingers came into contact with something soft, something that wouldn't normally be there. Pulling out the small item he saw the red silk pouch with the knotted silk rope. Shaking his head, he stared down at it. It was weighted, as if the amulet he'd made that day was in there. But he'd already put it on his little brother. That much he remembered.

He held it in his hand as he looked around with a grimace. Maybe he had to do it in the dream world. Maybe it was the way to get Sam out of his nightmare and conscious. It shouldn't be too hard to get it slipped over the kid's head.

Dean was brought out of his musings when Shadow whined next to him and nudged his arm with her nose. The water had started to boil as the clear surface turned to black. Small dead fish and other creatures floated to the surface and the cat's tails, lily pads and the grasses at the water's edge turned brown.

"Right. This could be a problem," Dean said, looking at the devastated area around him. "Sammy's hand was black just before I fell asleep."

He glanced around the edge of the pond and was relieved that it didn't look to be spreading to the grass that surrounded it. Looking back down at his hand he could see a ring of black around the wound. Knowing it couldn't be good, he took one last look at the pond before turning and heading towards the trees.

"C'mon girl. Let's go see what we can find," Dean said. He watched around them carefully as the dog bounded ahead of him, stopping to look back and wait for him, and then bounded ahead once again.

"Sam!" he called out as he walked, hoping his little brother was playing in the trees, preferably safe from harm and having some fun. But knowing Sammy the way he did, the kid was probably stuck in a horrible nightmare. The trick was to find him in here and get him out. Unfortunately Dean had absolutely no clue as to how that was going to happen.

The only thing he knew for sure was his little brother wasn't here. He headed through the trees and saw a clearing ahead. It wasn't much and he couldn't see any one around.

"SAMMY!" he shouted as loud as he could and then stood still as he listened hard for any kind of response. He glanced around, seeing nothing but Shadow as she too seemed to tilt her head and listen. There was no answer from anything.

With a sigh, he jogged across the field where he thought he saw something going across it. It was a fence that looked so old it was beginning to collapse with age. On the other side of that were two ruts roughly dug into the road, like it was a highway for old wagons that were seen in the westerns he watched at Bobby's.

Shadow came up to him and sat down next to Dean as he looked up and down the road and he tried to figure out which way to go. The place was surrounded by mountains, but he could see the one to his right was much closer. That could lead to possible shelter and he couldn't count the times he'd drilled it into his brother's head that shelter, first aid and water were the most important things in the wilderness.

He hoped that's where his little brother was headed, if in fact he was even here. It was possible that whatever he'd done hadn't worked and he was lost in his own mind. He shook his head as he slowed down. He couldn't think that way. Bobby said he had to believe this would work, so he did.

Absently he patted Shadow's head before he ducked through the fence and started to jog following the ruts in the road. He'd only been jogging for a short while when he stumbled. A white flash filled the area, and he thought it was lightning, but there hadn't been enough clouds in the sky for that.

Brushing himself off as he got to his feet, he glanced around. There in the field to his right was his little brother, screaming and running as if the devil were chasing him.

"SAM!" Dean shouted as Shadow growled, barked, then tore off in Sam's direction.

"Shadow!" Dean shouted again as he sprinted into the field, assessing the danger as he ran and spotted the bloody man walking in the direction of his little brother. There was no time to react to the thing, but it looked hideous. The lack of speed of the headless man was in their favour as he made good time towards his brother.

Afraid the dog would spook Sam, he ordered her to stop. He was relieved when she heard and came to an almost instant stop as Shadow looked back and tilted her head at him.

"Sammy, wait!" Dean yelled as his brother angled towards the mountains and away from him.

Something caught his eye in the sky. It was dark and shadowed from the sun. It had speed of epic proportion and was closing in on them fast. He thought it was a bird at first glance, but it would have been a long distance away. He covered more ground and glanced up at it again. It had only taken a moment but he could make out the shape, and it was no bird. The thing was huge.

He watched as Sammy stumbled and almost went down as he stared up at the sky. He just stopped, stared at the beast in the sky and looked back to the headless man still walking towards Sam. Dean watched, still too far away as Sam's shoulders seemed to drop and he continued to look between the two nightmarish things.

Dean hurried to catch up to Shadow, his command the only thing that was keeping her where she was. He could see her just waiting to go to Sam. Shadow's flanks were almost shaking with the need to continue sprinting towards the younger Winchester.

0000000000000

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. He didn't want to die, he just wanted to wake up. He wanted his big brother so badly it was almost tangible. Sam knew his brother and father would want him to be strong. He wished he had something he could defend himself with, but all of the things that came to mind wouldn't materialize for him.

He looked down at his hand. It had been hurting and throbbing since he'd been in the cave. It was oozing a thick black liquid, a little thicker than blood, and it hurt. His hand had turned purplish black as if he'd been hurt or broken some of the bones. Not that it would matter anymore. Either the dragon would kill him or the headless man would. The wound on his hand wouldn't matter after that.

"SAMMY!" Dean shouted as loud as he could as he panted.

Sam brought his head up.

_No. It couldn't be. _

The only things here were nightmarish and frightened him beyond belief. He'd never been afraid of his older brother. Never. Not even when things got unbearable with their father when he'd been possessed. He'd not gone to Dean for help but he hadn't feared him either. Even when the training had gotten almost too much to handle, he hadn't been afraid of him.

It was Dean he'd gone to, even in that time when the nightmares had gotten too bad. How he'd kept his wounds a secret he would never know, but he had. Even then, crawling into his brother's bed and burrowing into his side, he'd not been afraid of his brother. Dean may have been somewhere else emotionally during that time, but he'd never stopped Sam from coming to him. Dean had just lifted the sheets and sleepily mumbled something. He would wrap an arm around Sam before drifting back to sleep.

For a few hours Sam would feel safe. To see his big brother now with his hands resting on his thighs as he tried to catch his breath with Shadow next to him, in his nightmares, was just too much.

"NO! I'm not afraid of you! I've never been afraid of Dean! You're not him!" Sam shouted as he shook his head. "You're not! You can't be!"

"Sammy, get over here!" Dean yelled.

"My big brother would never hurt me! You're not real!" Sam shouted and started to stumble backwards.

0000000000000

Dean fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Of course I'm not going to hurt you, moron! I'm here to help you."

"You're lying! The only things here hurt me. Dean doesn't hurt me! He's the only one!" Sam shouted, his voice breaking over the last two words, before he turned and ran away from Dean.

"Christ," Dean mumbled as he made himself run again resisting the urge to get Shadow to get him and bring him back. "Damn it, kid, wait! Sammy, STOP!"

To Dean's amazement, Sam did just that. Dean kept running, but took another look around the area. He'd stopped gauging the headless man's location and speed. He had almost forgotten about the dragon, until the beast swooped down and landed hard on the ground.

Dean watched as Sam flew up a few feet into the air before falling down, and then Dean lost sight of him. He went up as well before he went down hard on his hands and knees. He gaped as the dragon opened its mouth and flapped it's extended wings and roared. Dean gasped out in pain and his hands flew up to his ears to try and ease some of the noise as he dropped to the ground. Shadow yelped as she dropped to the ground, her paws covered her head as she whimpered.

He shook his head to try and clear the ringing in his ears, gently touching the dog next to him. "Easy girl," he said softly, trying to soothe her. She continued to whimper as she struggled up enough to bury her face into his side.

He took a deep breath before he looked up to see his little brother staggering to his feet. They were close to him, but not close enough. Sam was pale, his eyes wide and even from this distance he could tell his little brother was shaking. Blood was seeping from his ears and it looked like something black was dripping from his hand.

Dean looked back to the dragon. The air shimmered with heat from its breath alone. "Sam, stay down, don't move!" Dean yelled. "Just don't move!"

The dragon looked in Dean's direction and breathed fire at him. He dove to the ground narrowly missing being burned. The heat made him flinch and close his eyes. The flames licked at his skin and he knew he had seconds before he was going to be burnt to a crisp.

As suddenly as it started the flame was gone. He cracked open one eye and tried to survey the damage. There was hardly any to his shock and surprise. Aside from a few singe marks on his clothes, his skin wasn't even red. A quick look over to the dog confirmed she wasn't hurt either.

Dean rolled onto his stomach and looked towards the dragon. He couldn't see Sam and he hoped the kid had just stayed down for once. The dragon was focused on something and Dean glanced over to see what it was.

The dragon roared again and belched out another line of flame. It caught the headless corpse in the chest and it erupted in flame.

"One down, one to go," Dean mumbled.

The dragon reared back and flapped its long wings again before letting out a huge roar. Dean clamped his hands over his ears again and could feel warmth coming out of them. He pulled back his hands and saw bits of blood on his palms. "That's just super."

He sat up, slightly dazed, and saw his little brother standing, weaving as he stared up at the dragon.

"One of these days kid, you're gonna stay down," Dean mumbled as he got to his feet and ran as fast as he could towards his little brother knowing Shadow was running as well but being careful to stay by his side.

The dragon looked away from the burning corpse and snorted smoke out of its nose.

"Sammy!" Dean yelled. "Run!"

Sam shook his head as if he was clearing it. He frowned at Dean as if trying to figure out who he was.

"Damn it, kid, MOVE!" Dean all but screamed the order in his panic to get his brother out of danger. He was close, but he was afraid it wasn't close enough.

Sam jolted slightly and then shook his head. "NO! You're not my brother!" he shouted and ran towards what was left of the burning headless corpse.

Sam may have been fast, but Dean had always been faster. He sprinted forward, and grabbed his little brother from behind.

"No! Don't!" Sam yelled.

Dean half-tackled his little to the ground. He knew there was no cover and if the only way to protect him was with his body so be it. He felt Sam tense ready to fight and he wrapped his arms securely around him. The dragon roared behind him and Dean crouched further around Sam to shelter him as much as he could. Shadow laying on a bit of Sam that wasn't covered. A second later a burst of flame appeared around them.

"Not Dean," Sam whimpered.

"It's me Sammy, I promise," Dean murmured as he felt flames hit his back and move around them. He loosened his hold slightly as his brother twisted around slightly then pulled him back against his chest. "It's going to be ok, Little Man. It's really me."

The flames stopped for only a second before another volley hit Dean. He rolled forward with the force of it, then rocked back slightly to ease up on is brother.

Another cry sounded far above them and the flames stopped. Dean cautiously brought his head up fearing another dragon. One he could deal with, two would be a different story altogether. It was an odd-looking kind of bird though.

Shadow gave a bit of a huffy growl as she watched the animal curiously.

It was as large as a lion. In fact it looked like it had the body and mane of one, but there were features of an eagle as well. It gracefully soared down towards them and Dean could see the front legs were like an eagle talons and the face, too, resembled the noble bird.

"It's a griffin," Sam whispered even as his hands still kept hold on his brother's t-shirt.

Dean frowned. He knew nothing about those animals, but as he glanced down he knew he had nothing to fear. Sam's face had lost some of its panic. He had to ask any way to be sure. "Good or bad, Sammy?"

"I... I'm not sure," Sam answered as he stared at it wonder.

Dean tensed as he waited for another volley of fire or an attack from the griffin.

But it never came at them, the griffin soared right down at the dragon. It dodged flames before swooping back down, and attacking the dragon. It attacked with its beak and talons. After a few moments the dragon was bleeding from its eyes and roaring in pain. The griffin swopped around it twice and the dragon continued to roar and breathe fire in different directions as it moved its head, trying to follow the sound of the griffin's wings.

"It's blind," Sam whispered. "The griffin blinded the dragon."

Dean could only watch in amazement as the griffin swooped down a final time, gripped the dragon in its talons and began to fly away from them.

"It's not going to get far, I mean that dragon must weigh several tons," Dean muttered.

"No. Griffins are strong and courageous. The books at Bobby's say they have the strength to lift elephants," Sam said.

Dean let Sam go as he stood back up. He glanced to check on Shadow who seemed to be happily sniffing at the grass around them.

"You ok?" Sam asked softly as he tried to look around at his brother's back.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine," Dean said.

"But you were...," Sam started to say as he got around his big brother's hand and frowned at Dean's back. "You're not burned."

Dean shrugged. "Yeah guess not."

Sam looked up at him. "You're... you're like superman."

"Dude! Do I look like the kind of guy that wears that kinda getup?" Dean asked as he raised an eyebrow. "I'd never get laid."

"Ok. Superman without the tights and capes," Sam said.

Dean smiled down at his little brother. "Damn straight, kid."

TBC...


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:**Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes:**This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense.

This chapter also kind of carries forward from the ritual a chapter or so back in a way but it's not really graphic. If you were ok with the previous ritual you should be ok with this one. Also be warned I've been flipping POV's again and done a flash back. Somewhere in there it all makes sense. :)

Things have been shaky for me these past few weeks so if you reviewed and I haven't replied, or gave the review without logging in, thank you for reviewing. It means a lot to me that you take the time to let me know what you're thinking of the story. Here's a great big hug to all of you who review, or even just lurk. Thank you. Also I'll stop rambling now. :)

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a lot after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 13**

"You ok?" Dean asked, giving his brother a serious once over.

Sam shrugged. "Sure, I guess. For now anyway."

"What does that mean?"

"Something else will come. You're not real, so you can't stay or you will and... and..." Sam paused and took a step back.

"What?" Dean asked as he frowned.

"Christo," he whispered.

"Dude, I'm so not possessed. And I'm real. I'm Superman in your brain," Dean said with a cocky grin.

Sam sighed heavily, put his hands on his hips and scowled at his big brother look-a-like. "Look, I'm not a baby. I know no matter how much I want my big brother here it can't happen. I _know_ this is a dream... nightmare... whatever. Meaning _I'm_ the one locked in here. Once person per psych. Look it up moron."

"Moron?" Dean scowled right back. He lunged forward and easily captured Sammy in a headlock. Shadow jumped up on Dean with her tail wagging furiously, trying to get in on the fun. "Who's the moron now, huh, Little Man?"

"Let go," Sam demanded softly, but did nothing to actually fight back.

"Nope. Not until we get a few things straight," Dean said, but let up a little in his grasp. "First, I may not be superman but _I am_ your big brother. Second, dude, if you've been dreaming about me going all possessed and psycho on you, we're so gonna be talking a lot when we wake up. And you know how much I hate doing that shit. You should also know you're the only one I would_ willing _do that for. Third, I'm here cause Bobby made me do this ritual thing that put dried green herbs in our hands and then I had to breathe in this smoke stuff. I'm here to rescue you, you stupid jerk. Now stop fighting me so we can get this sorted out and get you to wake up. Got it?"

Sam sighed as his hands bunched up in his brother's shirt. He took a moment to consider the words and realized that Dean put him in this headlock whenever he'd pushed him too far. Payback without really hurting him. Plus he was talking like his big brother normally would. In his other nightmares his brother's canter was off, or he'd use the wrong kind of words. He'd also done nothing but protect him since Sam first saw him. Not that Dean had hurt him in his nightmares either, it was more of Dean saying he wasn't worth anything and he was wasting his time looking out for his brother.

He closed his eyes for a second and just tried to breathe. It occurred to him that it felt and smelled like his brother too. And the brother that showed up in his dreams never had the golden amulet around his neck. He squirmed slightly.

"What're you doing?" Dean demanded.

Sam's fingers brushed over the amulet under his brother's t-shirt and he gasped as he felt a small surge of energy come off of it. "Dean?" he asked in a quivering voice. As odd as it sounded he knew it was Dean, but he was afraid to believe it was really him.

"Yeah, buddy," Dean said softly as he let go of the arm lock and knelt down to look his little brother in the face. "It's really me. I promise."

"But it can't be. Logically it wouldn't work," Sam whispered.

"I'm really real, Little Man. Deal with it."

"No one can come into my dreams

"Normally that's true. But I'm guessing the stuff Bobby had me use had something to do with it," Dean said.

A loud roaring sound filled the air and Sam turned to see two great eagles, each bigger than his father soaring above them.

"Uh, Sammy?"

"Not good," Sam said. "They peck at me until I'm still alive but mostly bones."

"Dude, no more Tolkien for you," Dean muttered as he stood up. He looked around for something to use in their defense when the world warped and shimmered around them. A second later they were in a dark cave with sparkling walls and a pond. "Sammy, what?"

Shadow was panting happily next to the boys before she wandered over to the water to take a drink.

"Sometimes when I get scared I move to a different place," Sam said. "I didn't think you'd come with me."

Dean just looked at him for a moment. "Talking. Long and much information given to me. Lots. I mean it."

"I know," Sam said around a sigh. "You'll hate every second."

"True. But we're gonna do it," Dean said, but he was focusing on the bandage on his brother's hand. He reached over and pulled Sam's arm by his wrist so he could take a good look at it. "Sammy, this looks bad. Smells bad too."

The younger Winchester pulled his hand back and went over to the stream. He knelt next to Shadow as he unwrapped the soiled bandage and dipped his hand into the water. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that came out of him then. He closed his eyes at the relief from pain and heat.

Dean knelt down beside him, picked up the soiled gauze intent on rinsing it out when he got a good look at it. "Dude, it's black."

"Yeah, well, apparently I have black blood," Sam said matter-of-factly. "Told you I was a monster."

Dean frowned at him. "I specifically remember telling you the opposite."

Sam shrugged, then wrinkled his face as he leaned back from Shadow as she tried to lick his face.

Dean frowned down at the water, then glanced around. He had the feeling that they needed to get out of there. He knew that dreams felt like they went on forever when in fact they only lasted a short time. He couldn't make where they were safe, but he wasn't sure how he was going to make his little brother wake up. With a frustrated sigh he concentrated on rinsing the black blood out of the gauze.

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John rubbed a hand over his face. His eyes felt like they were on fire from being awake for so long. He needed rest, but there was no way he was going to give in to his exhaustion until his sons woke.

His eyes shot open as he heard a soft shifting on the bed. His hopes were dashed a second later as he watched Shadow whimper and twitch in her sleep.

John watched for any sign that the slight movement would wake his children up. But neither of them moved. The absolute stillness of his sons bothered him on every level. While Dean didn't move around as much as Sam did, the teen still moved. He tended to be restless just after he'd fallen into a light sleep. He'd toss from his back to his stomach, then his side before he'd actually get settled in sleep. But then he'd be settled except for the small movements he made from his dreams. His hands would twitch or his head would shift slightly on the pillow. Sam could be a destructive force before the night was over with sheets, pillows and whatever book he'd been reading before going to sleep strewn halfway across the room before they got up in the morning.

A very slight smile graced his worn face. Before any of this mess had happened they'd stopped at a hotel that had cabins lining the property. They weren't large by any means, but they were huge in comparison to the shabby rooms they'd been in before. There was a room for the boys with two beds, and a bed in the main room. He almost chuckled as he remembered waking up suddenly to Dean swearing. When John had gotten into the room Sam was still sleeping. All of his sheets were on the floor, along with his pillows. Dean was scowling as he rubbed at his head.

"No more books in bed for him," Dean growled. He'd begun to wind up to throw the book back at his sleeping brother who seemed blissfully unaware that anything had happened.

"Dean," John said softly as he came into the room to see what the problem was.

"Fine. We're training in the morning though," he replied sulkily as he settled back into his bed.

"He's asleep. I doubt he did it on purpose," John said as he pulled the covers back over his youngest son.

"Don't be so sure. He's getting sneaky these days," Dean mumbled already on his way back to sleep.

John smiled as he looked over and pulled the blanket up over his oldest son as well.

"Thanks," Dean murmured.

John just shook his head as he headed back for bed himself.

Bobby came into the room and handed John a coffee startling him out of his memories.

"It's taking too long, isn't it?" John asked before taking a sip of coffee.

"There's no specific time table here," Bobby said as he looked down into his dark brew, then over at the boys. "But yeah, maybe."

"One of us will have to go in for them," John said. "Been thinking about it."

"And?" Bobby growled already knowing what his friend was going to say.

"I think you should go in," John said softly.

Bobby frowned at him. "Why? Dean is ok with you. He'll see and hear you."

John shook his head even as his gaze never left his sons. "No, he isn't. Not that anyone can tell, but he isn't."

"If you're talkin' about last night," Bobby started to say.

John shook his head again. "No. That was exhaustion and frustration. It's more than that Bobby. It's the little things that I don't even think Dean knows he's doing."

"Like what?"

"When I'm trying to teach them a new defensive move Dean's tense with me and he won't let me show Sam. When we're walking somewhere Dean makes sure he's in between me and his little brother. There's more, but he's acting like a buffer. He's labeled me as a threat to Sam and he's doing everything he can to protect my youngest son from me."

"Horse shit," Bobby growled.

"You think so?" John asked as he finally looked at his friend.

"Those boys would do anything for you. Sam and Dean have been fine around you."

"Not been around us much since the last time we were here," John said softly.

Bobby didn't say much for a few minutes because he really hadn't seen them much in the months since they'd stayed here. "Fine. I'll go in, but it's still a lot of hooey."

John didn't respond to the words. He knew without a doubt that neither of his sons trusted him enough for this. Dean might even see him as enough of a threat to try and kill him in Sam's nightmare. Bobby was the logical person to go in. Sam had called him when he'd needed someone to help. Bobby had been one of the few people Dean had taken a shine to when he was four, and the strong bond had remained to this day. He could see it in the way Dean actually let his guard down here, how he would open up to Bobby when the man asked him questions.

John was sure Bobby was the only one who could pull this off.

"Since you're mind is made up, and you're quiet enough to be talkin' yourself into it, I'll get the supplies I need. You stay here in case they wake up while I'm gone."

"Let's hope," John said wearily as he put his coffee down next to his feet and leaned forward towards the bed.

"Idjit," Bobby muttered as he left the room.

0000000000000

Putting a hand into his pocket, Dean pulled out a few items that hadn't been there a few minutes ago and put them on the ground between them. He'd pulled out a red pouch that was exactly the same as the one he'd made and put on his brother earlier. There was the silver knife, a pouch of herbs, roll of gauze and an index card with his father's scrawl.

"What's all that for?" Sam asked quietly.

"I gotta finish, Little Man. I had to come in to find you in order to finish this and get you to wake up," Dean answered a little reluctantly.

"That looks girly," Sam said as he pointed to the red pouch.

"Yeah, maybe. It's silk," Dean said with a slight shrug as he finished arranging the things he would need, then picked up the pouch and slipped it over Sam's head. "I made it for you. It's an amulet. It doesn't come off, not for anything. Understand?"

"Yeah, but can I see it? I wanna see it," Sam said as he held the pouch in his fingers.

"No. It's sealed. It needs to stay on for seventy-one days to make sure it works, Sammy," Dean answered. "It has to stay on."

"Ok," Sam said and let the pouch go.

"Can you show me your hand?" Dean asked.

Sam pulled it out of the water and held it out to his big brother. "It doesn't hurt when it's in the water."

Dean nodded. "Does it feel better when you put it into the lake over there?"

"No. Still burns," Sam said with a shrug.

"Huh," Dean said as he picked up the knife.

Sam's eyes bulged out of his head and he yanked his hand away. "What are you going to do with that?"

"I told you, Sammy, I gotta finish," Dean answered reluctantly as held his hand out for his little brother's.

Sam pursed his lips together for a second as he looked down at his hand. He sighed softly before tilting his head to look up at his older brother, and then put his hand into Dean's.

"It'll be ok, Sammy," Dean said softly, making his promise as he looked directly into his little brother's eyes. "I promise."

Sam took a deep breath before he squared his shoulders and nodded. "Ok," he said.

Dean heard the shaky words but saw absolute trust in his brother's eyes. He nodded once. "Ok," he breathed out before taking another steadying breath. Carefully he reopened the wound and dipped it back into the water. He held it in for a few minutes even as Sam tried to pull back.

"Dean, stop it hurts, it burns."

Ignoring him, Dean pulled open the pouch with one hand. He took Sam's hand out of the water, spoke the words off the card and put the herbs into it. Flinching back from the black smoke that rose from it, he dipped the gauze in the stream before wrapping it around Sam's hand.

Slowly Sam pulled his hand back and cradled it against his chest. He started to rock slightly front to back. His eyes were clenched shut and his breathing was coming in quiet gasps.

"That's it, Sammy, I promise. No more, ok?" Dean said as he pulled his little brother against his side and rocked with him.

Shadow whined softly from where she sat. She shifted over and lay down, resting her head on Sam's thigh.

"It hurts. Dean, please, _please_, make it stop."

"Little Man, look at me," Dean said quietly and waited for his brother to look him in the eye. "We don't need to stay. The ritual is over. All you have to wake up, ok? That's all we need to do. Just wake up."

"I can't," Sam whispered.

"Yes you can, Sammy. Just wake up," Dean said with a small smile.

The walls and floors trembled around them before a brilliant white flash encompassed them.

"Don't you think it's about damn time you two idjits woke up," Bobby growled.

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer**: Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes**: This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense.

Firstly let me say I'm sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter posted. Things have not been going as planned and the anxiety ramped up to levels it hasn't been in years. Thankfully I seem to be getting over some of it. Even so, I'm worried about posting this chapter and how it will be taken. It's a bit of an odd chapter, even from my POV. I'm not sure it really helps the story or even propels it along, but when I was writing it the place was very clear to me so I added it. It made sense to me, that Dean would need this, so I really hope it's not confusing to anyone.

I promise to have the next chapter up within the next week.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a lot after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 14**

"Bobby?" Dean said quietly as he opened his eyes and frowned as he looked around. The man was nowhere to be seen. His frown deepened as the dregs of sleep eased up and he realized he wasn't in the cave any longer. In fact, he didn't seem to be anywhere he was supposed to be.

And he was alone.

0000000000000

"Don't you think it's about damn time you two idjits woke up," Bobby growled worriedly, scissors in his hand. He was supposed to be cutting a bit of hair off both of them to brew in tea. He wanted them to work it through on their own, he wasn't hesitating because he didn't want to do it, he hesitated because he hated to invade their minds.

Shaking his head, Bobby leaned over Sam ready to take a snip off somewhere that wouldn't show, when the kid sighed sleepily and shifted closer to his big brother.

"Sammy? Dean? You boys awake?" Bobby asked, immediately freezing where he stood.

Sam mumbled something under his breath, his hand slowly tightened on Dean's shirt. He moved his head up and down on the pillow before settling once more.

Bobby glanced at the doorway as John came into the room.

"Tea's ready to brew. Got their hair?" John asked.

"May not be necessary. Sammy's showin' signs of waking up."

"And Dean?"

"Not yet. But if Dean got Sam to wake up, then Dean should as well. But keep in mind the boy's beyond exhausted, and just getting the rest his body is demanding."

John looked over his sleeping children. "So can I…"

"Yeah you can sit with them, talk with them," Bobby said, putting the scissors down on the table then frowned as John got closer to the bed. He looked at Shadow's unmoving form. "WAIT!"

0000000000000

Dean was stretched out on an oval rug in front of a fireplace. There was a fire crackling happily and warming him nicely. He blinked as he took in the place. Stone walls, stone fireplace, wood floor. Not the cave, not Bobby's, but familiar.

He sucked in a breath as he sat quickly. "SAM!"

He twisted as he heard a thumping and a high whine behind him. Shadow had her head up and cocked at him slightly. Her tail was thumping on the cushions. "Shadow?"

She opened her mouth and started panting which always made her look like she was smiling.

Dean drew in another breath as he ran his hand over his face. He knew this place. He'd been here, his family had been here.

The memory was vague at best. He'd been a whole lot younger, and they'd been snowed in. It had belonged to someone who had owed his father a favour, and they'd stayed one winter.

Snowball fights, cutting wood for the fire, his own bed in his own room with Sam in another room and his father across the hall. Dad was relaxed and spent actual time with them, instead of them being in the same room while John spoke on the phone or researched in books.

It was one of the few memories after his mother had been killed that filled him with warmth and happiness.

He held up his hands and tried to duck as something warm and wet hit touched his cheek. He laughed as his hands tangled in soft fur. "Shadow," he said as he pushed her back a little.

The dog sat down and looked at him expectantly.

"What happened to Sammy, girl?" He asked her seriously with sight hope if it was just a dream, maybe she would talk to him. The thought just made him laugh. "A talking dog would freak me all the way out right now."

Dean got up. "Come on, girl. Let's see if Sam's around here somewhere."

0000000000000

Sam's eyes bolted open at the sharpness of Bobby's voice. He looked frantically around the room in fear as he moved closer to his big brother.

"Easy, Sammy. You're ok," John said softly. "It's all right."

"John, don't touch Shadow," Bobby directed quietly, seeing how spooked Sam was. "Or Dean. Neither one have moved."

"Got that," John said just as quietly. "Sammy, look at me. You're ok."

Sam glanced from his father, to his brother and saw he was still asleep. "Dean? Dean, wake up," he whispered as he tightened his hold on his brothers t-shirt.

"Sam, he's just sleeping," Bobby said gently. "He hasn't gotten much over the last couple of days, but he's alright."

John glanced at him, and was pointedly ignored. He swallowed back the response he wanted to give. "That's right. Dean just needs some sleep. He'll be fine," he said and knew he could be lying, but he really hoped he wasn't.

Sam looked from his father to his uncle before his eyes shifted down to his throbbing hand. It was swollen, the skin bulging over the gauze. His hand was deeply bruised and the pain increased as he turned it over. The gauze over his palm was stained black. His eyes shot up to his father as his breathing sped up.

"Easy. We'll change the bandage. It's the infection beginning to come out," Bobby said, even as John reached out to check it.

"Hurts," Sam whispered.

"I know, buddy," John said, and glanced over to Bobby.

"Got something that'll help with that," Bobby said as he handed John scissors, then left the room.

Sam caught sight of them just before John opened them. He snatched his hand back and cradled it against his chest. He shook his head back and forth furiously.

"Sammy, it hurts because it's infected and swollen. If I take off the bandage the skin won't be so restricted and adding to the pain."

Sam shook his head again.

"Buddy, it'll hurt more if I try to untie your brother's knot."

Sam seemed to deflate against his brother's side as he looked at the knot. He knew when Dean tied something it stayed tied, strong and sure. With a trembling sigh, he held his hand out to his father, closed his eyes and turned as much as he could to bury his face into Dean's side. He was so tired of being tired and hurt. He just wanted everything to go away to stop. Dean usually helped him fix things, but even the security of his brother being right there wasn't really helping.

John took the offered hand gently in one of his own. "Ok, Sammy, I'll be as quick as I can. Here we go."

It only took a moment before the stained gauze fell away, but to Sam it felt like a lifetime of sheer burning pain. Tears ran from his eyes into Dean's shirt, and he couldn't stop himself from shaking.

0000000000000

Dean slowly made his way around the cabin. It wasn't very large, and as he searched the place, an empty feeling that told him he and Shadow were the only ones there.

He paused on the threshold that had once been his room. Shadow paused when he stopped, and nuzzled Dean's hand with her nose.

"See this, girl? This was all mine for almost three months," he said softly, with a fond smile. He went into the room and knelt next to the head of the bed. Slowly he ran his hand down the side, letting his fingers brush over the grooves in the wood. "Dad was teachin' me and Sammy about runes and sigils. I spent an entire day carving protective ones all around the place. These were my first ones."

He pulled his hand away as Shadow sniffed at the wood, then laughed softly as the dog turned with her tail wagging and licked his face. Dean's fingers caught her collar and he pulled her back. "It's how I know to protect you, girl," he said softly, moving his fingers over the leather collar until he felt the marks he was looking for. He gave her a good petting before he got up.

Shadow followed his every move around the cabin, inside and out. She would pause to sniff at the places he touched, and played like a puppy in the snow until Dean called her back.

He stopped in the kitchen, hearing familiar voices. Even Shadow paused as Bobby's voice could be heard. Not what he said, but there was no doubt it was him. She cocked her head to the side, whined slightly as she looked from Dean to the counter. She walked over to the counter and put her paws up on it. Her nose barely made it above the edge and she sniffed at the contents just out of reach.

"_Easy. We'll change the bandage. It's the infection beginning to come out." _

"_Hurts."_

"_I know, buddy."_

Dean gently nudged Shadow off the counter and picked up the small box. It looked like a really old fashioned radio, but it had no wires and he couldn't see anywhere batteries would go.

"Dad? Sammy? Uncle Bobby?" Dean yelled at it, not knowing what else to do with it.

"_Sammy, it hurts because it's infected and swollen. If I take off the bandage it won't be so restricted, and adding to the pain."_

When they didn't respond, Dean just frowned at it. With nowhere else to go, he went back to the living room and sat on the coffee table. He put the radio-like item next to him and just listened to his family. He didn't know how to get to them, but at least Sammy was safe.

Shadow sat next to him, and without conscious thought, Dean began to run his fingers through her fur. Slowly all the tension and worry started to drain away until his eyes began to droop.

Taking a deep breath, he went over to the fire and added a few more logs. He poked at them, making the coals glow hotter and the wood crackle and pop.

He felt exhausted, but oddly safe just like when he'd been here before. He just stood there, staring down at the flames dancing in the fire place until he felt a warm pressure on his hand. Looking down he saw Shadow had her mouth around his hand, not biting him, but enough to hold onto his hand and begin to move.

She pulled him over to the couch, only letting go when he'd sat down. Dean gave her a half-smile before running his hand over her head. He sighed softly, stretching out over the full length of the couch. A sleepy smile covered his face as Shadow jumped up, nudged his arm with her nose before settling next to his chest. Dean never remembered the couch being that comfortable or big enough for a dog to settle next to his side. Not that he cared, because having her that close to him, as he ran his hand through her fur, was always comforting.

"Comfy, girl?"he asked wryly with an eyebrow raised. Shadow thumped her tail on him and then the seat cushion. "Well, all right then."

He tangled his hand in her soft fur once more and just let himself drift before he fell asleep.

TBC…


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer**: Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes**: This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a lot after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
****Chapter 15**

It was hours before anyone moved on the bed again. Shadow had slowly lifted her head and given an almost silent yawn that ended with a slight whine. She shifted a little before settling against Dean and began to pant.

It took a few minutes, and the promise of a treat to get Shadow to her feet and off the bed. She trailed behind Bobby until she reached the door and turned back to look at Dean.

"Come on, girl. We'll get you looked after then you can come back," Bobby said softly. He pulled one of her treats out of her pocket and held it out for her. After she ate it he pulled out another and tried to lead her out of the room. With an unhappy whine she looked back at Dean for a moment before following behind Bobby.

John hadn't moved since Sammy had settled. He was leaning forward, hands on his knees, his gaze not leaving his sons.

From where he sat, he could see how tight Sam's hold was on his big brother. His small knuckles were a startling white next to the dark t-shirt Dean wore.

Tiredly, John ran a hand over his face. Dean still hadn't moved, hadn't even given as much as a twitch in his sleep. Bobby had told him just before leaving the room that he was going to start the preparation to dream walk Dean.

Dream walking. It sounded like some kind of bad horror movie or sci-fi film. He knew it was the right thing, and that Bobby wouldn't do anything to harm his boys. Even armed with that knowledge, the thought of Bobby roaming around in his son's mind did nothing more than amp up his unease about the whole situation.

John sat up and tried to stretch some of the tension out of his back, but it only made a few popping noises leaving the strain exactly where it was. He got up and bowed his back to try again but nothing changed. He sighed as he moved around the room. The hunter in him appreciated Bobby's skill and preparedness for the situation. The father in him was horrified he'd put both his children through this.

If he'd thought reconnecting after the last time had been strained and awkward, he shook his head at himself. Last time was a cake walk compared to how it was going to go this time. He had no illusions as to how scared Sammy was of him, but fear wasn't shown in the Winchester family. In Sammy it showed as anger bordering on rage so strong that of late had Dean taking a step back.

He had no idea how to break through that. As usual it was going to be up to Dean to deal with it. As much as he hated it, he also knew it would be the only to fix this, or come anywhere near fixing this.

With a tired sigh John settled back onto the chair and continued to watch over his children.

0000000000000

Dean was warm, relaxed and definitely not alone. Sleep still clung heavily to him making him feel like it would take far too much energy to move. He knew without a doubt it was Sammy curled up next to him, which really wasn't unusual, but he couldn't remember his little brother coming into bed. Nor could he remember any screaming or cries in the dark that usually sent his brother running. So whatever had happened couldn't have been too bad.

Dean took a deep breath and moved his head on the pillow. Awareness slowly began to sink in. Aside from breathing there weren't any sounds in the room, no traffic on the highway or buzzing of neon lights, loud neighbours or voices from outside. He was in a comfortable bed and more relaxed than he got in a motel room. So Sam must have joined him on the couch.

No wait. Shadow was on the couch.

Shadow…

Bobby's….

Sammy's hand!

Dean's eyes bolted open. "Sammy?" he said quietly as he shifted to look down at his baby brother. He shook his head slightly at the bandaged hand clenched tightly in his shirt.

"Dean?"

His head shot up even as his hand went protectively over his brother's wrapped hand. "Dad?" he asked, still partially asleep. His eyes darted around the room before settling between looking between Bobby and his father sitting on chairs near the end of the bed.

His attention was pulled away from them as Shadow lifted her head off her paws, yawned and thumped her tail against the mattress.

John got up and leaned over him. "All right son?"

Dean reached out and touched his arm. His father was warm, solid and he wanted to believe it wasn't another dream like the cabin had been.

"Dean?"

"Is this real? Did I get Sammy out?" he whispered mostly to himself.

"Yeah, you did, and why wouldn't this be real?" John was looking down with concern, and Dean squirmed uncomfortably with the scrutiny.

Dean ran a hand over his eyes. He was supposed to be the solid one, the one that took care of everything so his father could hunt and trust that Sammy was in good hands, safe from harm. Not that he'd lived up to those expectations in over a year.

"I was back at…," Dean started to answer, then swallowed heavily. "Never mind."

John frowned down at him.

Dean shifted on the bed again. He was a bit sore from lying in an odd position for so long. The muscles in his back were doing some weird twitching, and Sam was lying next to him with an arm across his middle, his hand was holding Dean's shirt so hard his knuckles were white even in his sleep.

"You ready to get up for a bit? You've been out for almost a full day," John said quietly.

Dean shook his head before shifting a final time and closing his eyes again. A few moments later they few open again. "Is this…" he started to ask with his eyes looking around the room again.

"Is this what?"

"Did we make it back?"

"Back from where?"

Dean stared at him for a moment, then looked down at Sam, Shadow then over to Bobby before turning his gaze back to his father. "Home?"

John smiled slightly amused. His oldest son looked exhausted and probably wasn't awake as he thought he was. "Yeah, buddy, you did. Sam's been awake and so has Shadow. We were beginning to worry you wouldn't wake up."

Dean sighed sleepily. "Me too," he murmured before his eyes closed.

John watched over him until his son's breathing evened out again.

Bobby yawned in the chair behind them. "He ok?"

John ran a hand over his face. "No."

0000000000000

Two days later Sammy's wound was visible without the aid of Bobby's herbs. The wound was cleaned and the bandage changed several times a day while the infection began to heal. The bruising had snaked its way up the arm just past Sam's elbow. It looked so bad that the youngest Winchester's arm was massaged with salve every day before it was wrapped up and hung in a sling. It seemed for the best as the boy had no strength in it and without thinking would try to pick something up only to have it shatter or clatter to the ground at his feet. Bobby promptly called him a walking hazard.

Dean was sitting outside with his morning cup of coffee, his hand tangled in Shadow's fur, when Bobby stepped out and towered over him. Dean tilted his head and looked up at him. "Uh, mornin'."

"Uh huh," Bobby said and continued to stare down at him. "Since when are you up this early?"

"What? It's early?" Dean asked with a raised eye brow as he looked up at his uncle.

"It's just past five."

Dean sighed and his eyes narrowed slightly. "So?"

"Dean," Bobby growled, the warning plain in his tone.

"Sam's had nightmares all night. He's finally sleeping peacefully and I couldn't get back to sleep so I came out here s'all. Got my second … tenth wind or somethin'," Dean said, and at his uncle's huff he sighed. "Look it's fine."

"You've been sayin' that for two days. Keep lying to me, boy, and you'll really see me angry."

Dean grimaced and stared down at Shadow. "Fine. It's not _fine_. Sam won't talk about it and he won't let me in to help him at all."

"Did'ja expect it to be easy?"

He huffed out a breath. "'Course not. Nothin's easy with that kid," Dean said with a fond grin, then sobered, knowing that wouldn't be an acceptable answer for Bobby. "And ok but… Sam he's just … he's always come to me and now …" Dean waved his hand in the air, then sighed before going back to petting Shadow. "It just …," he paused again and couldn't find the words he was looking for. "Whatever. I'm going for a run."

Bobby allowed Dean to get to his feet before he grabbed his arm. "Runnin' ain't the solution, boy."

Dean's face pinched in anger before he hastily got to his feet. "Great. Fine. If you know what it is? Then why don't you share it," Dean glared at him.

"Don't push me, kid. That anger you've been burnin' for days?" he growled and poked Dean in the chest, hard. "All that pent up emotion that's churnin' your guts so bad that you can't even try to bury it?" Poke. "That's what's holding your brother back. Figure it out. Dean," Bobby growled as he poked him in the chest again. "'Cause last time you were here it was like crushin' rock with a toothpick to get you to open up. You keep those walls up and your brother won't talk to you," he poked Dean so hard the teen moved back slightly.

Shadow whined at their feet looking from one to the other.

"Sam's not gonna talk to you here either, you idjit," Bobby poked at his chest seeing the anger rising to epic portions in the teen. "Or haven't you figured that out yet?"

Bobby moved to poke him once more when Dean batted his hand away. "What the hell would you know about it!" Dean exploded and threw his coffee mug.

"More than you do, _apparently_," Bobby said as he poked Dean's chest again. "Sam doesn't trust me or your daddy," he pressed, knowing he was pushing all the right buttons and felt a little relieved that Dean was venting some of the pent up anger he'd been simmering in the last few days.

"Of course he trusts you," Dean snapped back.

"Dean, we discussed this before. It's you he needs, boy. But right now he doesn't know how to navigate you. Take the wheel. Get him out of here for a walk and take Shadow with you. Damn mutt's been underfoot since you got here. Just get gone with him," Bobby growled, then turned and walked into the house.

Dean's eyes glowed hot as he glared at the door. He was barely aware of Shadow sitting next to him and leaning against his leg. His anger burned so bright he was shaking, his hands opening and closing in fists and his chest was heaving.

Dean closed his eyes, leaned his head back and took calming breaths, all but commanding himself to calm down. He blanked out his mind and just breathed. When his heart had stopped racing, and he felt exhaustion flow through him from his sudden outburst he shook his head. His chin dropped to his chest before he rubbed the back of his neck for a second. Dean shook his head before looking back at the closed door.

Bobby was one of the few people in his life that could rile him up just to get things straight in his head. As much as he hated it, he wouldn't trade the man for anything in the world because Bobby generally, ok most often, tended to be correct. In this case he had been avoiding talking and pressing Sam to open up. He hated opening up and sharing feelings, and he hated to have his little brother having to do the same thing. It just seemed unnatural to him.

Knowing he had to get Sam away from there to have his heart to heart, he knelt down and patted Shadow's back a few times. "Let's go get Sammy, girl."

**TBC….**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer**: Just the standard disclaimer folks. I don't own anyone or anything you recognize. Supernatural belongs to the CW, Eric Kripke, and anyone affiliated as such. I am not making any money, nor is any offence intended.

**Author's Notes**: This follows two previous stories if you haven't read Renovations and Shadows please read them first or some of this will not make sense.

Thanks to Muffy for the beta. I played with it a lot after getting it back so any leftover mistakes are totally mine.

I'm totally embarrassed to admit that I can't figure out where I left off in responding to reviews. So if I haven't gotten back to you I am so sorry. A heartfelt hug out to all of you who review or just lurk. Thank you for following this story all the way through.

I hope you enjoy the following.

* * *

**Scar Tissue  
by Infinite Shadow  
Chapter 1****6**

Sam was getting dressed when Dean came into their room. His younger brother's head popped out of the turtleneck shirt and looked startled at Dean's appearance.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean said. "Need a hand?"

Sam frowned at him. "No," he huffed.

Dean tilted his head and raised an eyebrow.

Sam rolled his eyes and looked down. "Yeah," he said softly.

A small smile turned up the lips on Dean's face. He gently helped Sam get his sore arm into the sleeve. "Come on. I'll get some salve worked into your arm, and help you into your sling. Then we're takin' Shadow for a walk."

"What? Why?" Sam said as he tried to pick up his shoes and promptly dropped them.

Dean sighed as he leaned down and picked them up. "Dude, other hand," he said, shoving the shoes into Sam's left hand. "Bobby wants her taken for a walk, probably needs to talk to dad about stuff. You know how that works."

Sam frowned as he looked at his sweatshirt, then it deepened as Dean picked it up for him. "Is he mad?" Sam asked.

"Bobby? Yeah, a little, I think... But not at you."

The easily spoken words from his brother didn't ease the dread that slowly began to fill him. Sam's heart was speeding up and his palms began to sweat. He jumped as Dean put a hand on his back and gave him a nudge out of the room.

"So c'mon. We'll get your arm and hand treated, and then we can get out of here."

Dean was quick and efficient and glad that Bobby's salve had some pain killers in it. The bruising looked terrible, blacks, reds, purples and yellows. He cringed when he saw it, thinking that it was looking worse than it had two days ago. He gave a short massage to the muscles as he worked in the salve and ignored the winces Sam was trying hard to hold back.

No more than ten minutes later they were walking off Bobby's property and heading down the road. There was a park that they'd outgrown years ago, but it was dog friendly, and a place Shadow could run free.

Dean had Shadow's leash in his hands, but it wasn't really needed as she was walking docilely beside him. Sam walked on the other side of Shadow, his hand in his jacket pocket and his head angled down towards the ground.

The older Winchester cleared his throat and saw Sam tense.

"You need to ease up there, Sammy. I'm not planning to yell atcha. So relax, dude," he said softly.

Sam glanced over at him through his bangs. "You're not?" he asked softly.

"Nah. Why would I?"

"I messed up," Sam replied. "Bad."

"Well, kinda, but only in not talking to me and taking dad on like a raving lunatic," Dean said as he pulled Shadow around to his other side so he could lean over and bump his brother's good shoulder with his own. "Which takes balls, but you're still gonna want those in a few years."

Sam took the bump without breaking his stride. "Yeah. I guess."

"You guess?"

"He's not always right," Sam mumbled.

Dean did his best to hide a grin. "What's that, Sammy? Didn't quite catch that."

"I, ah, I didn't talk to you cause I thought it wasn't important. I thought I was dealing with it ok," Sam said, then looked up at his brother with wide, wet eyes. "Really I did!"

"Whoa, man, put those away," Dean said jokingly as he put up his hands in front of his eyes to defend himself, hoping to get his brother to relax a bit. "You don't need them right now."

Sam grinned a little and they walked in silence for a few minutes.

"So dragons, a headless man and a griffin?" Dean prompted.

"Uh... um... ok," Sam said and shrugged. "A dragon, headless man and a griffin walk into a bar."

Dean reached out a cuffed him gently. "No," he said and sighed. "Christ," he mumbled.

"What?" Sam said, looking up innocently at him.

"Tell me about them. Why they're in your nightmares," Dean prompted again and when his little brother didn't respond he sighed. He held out his hand to stop Sam. "Dude, you're killin' me here."

Sam pursed his lips together, making his dimples show slightly before he looked down at his feet.

Dean stared at him for a second. "Fine. I'm burning all your Tolkien books when we get back to Bobby's," he said out of frustration, knowing Sam treasured those books above almost all else at the moment.

"No!"

"Then talk to me! Because keeping all this shit inside is just gonna keep hurting you," Dean said before he reached out and touched his shoulder. "Dude, you can trust me."

Sam shook his head a little. "I know. But it's just so stupid."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Whether it is or isn't, you can tell me."

Nodding, Sam started walking again.

When they reached the park, Dean let them through the two gates of the park. It was a huge area so dogs could go off-leash and stay safe from any cars driving down the road behind them. Dean pulled Shadow's ball out of his pocket and threw it. Shadow gave an excited bark before she took off after it.

Sam hadn't said a word in almost ten minutes before he walked away from Dean and sat on a park bench. Dean squinted his eyes as he watched Shadow running happily around the area. He could feel his frustration rising. He'd given Sam a huge opening and the kid wasn't taking it. All but ready to wash his hands of the whole thing, he sat down next to his brother.

"Ready to go?'

Sam shrugged, not looking at him.

Dean shook his head and looked over to where Shadow was sniffing at a tree, then began to follow a scent on the cold ground.

Sam took a deep breath and adjusted his arm in the sling. "I… I don't know where to start," he admitted softly as he glanced up at his brother.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't figure out... I'm not sure," Sam said softly before he frowned heavily at the ground and chewed on is lower lip for a second, then huffed out a breath. "I'm not sure what you want to hear."

Dean blinked at that as he realized what his little brother was saying. _Oh. Crap. _He rested his arm on the back of the bench behind Sam. "This isn't about me. It's about you and what's upsetting you."

"But… but…"

"Hey, relax. I'm not mad," Dean said as he finally recognized what had been flashing on and off in his brother's eyes the entire walk. Fear was not something he wanted Sammy to feel towards him. He reached up a little and gave his shoulder a squeeze. "This isn't about telling me what I want to hear, or what you think dad wants, or Bobby. This is about telling me what's upsetting you, and letting me help."

Sam swallowed heavily and looked down. He squeezed his eyes shut and just tried to breathe. "I can't," he whispered brokenly and took a shaky breath.

Dean inched closer. "You gotta know, Little Man, the worst is over now," he said softly as he moved his arm from off the back of the bench over Sam's shoulders. "Dad, Bobby and me we're not mad. You have to stop jumping every time we say something loud or make a loud noise. We're not mad, we're worried. We want you to be well, healed and sleeping through the night without the nightmares."

Sam sniffed loudly. He jumped as Shadow came up and put her head on his leg. She looked up at him and he slowly started to run his hand gently over her head.

"Do you know how that's gonna happen?"

Sam sniffed again and shifted so he was leaning against his brother's chest. "No," he whispered.

"You talk to me. And if you can't tell me now why don't you give me a few hints. Maybe tell me what's scaring you the most," Dean suggested. "It's a place to start."

"You'll make fun of me," Sam said.

Dean had to listen carefully to hear all of what he was saying, and shook his head. "You really did fall out of the stupid tree and hit all the branches on the way down," he muttered.

"See!" Sam yelled and tried to shove away from his brother.

"Sam, stop!" Dean commanded, worried his brother would hurt his hand more than it was and was surprised that he did. "I didn't mean it like that. I've been trying to telling you, I'm telling you now, you can talk to me, but it's like talking to a wall. You're frustrating the hell outta me, kid."

Sam shook his head.

"Ok. Ok," Dean said, lowering his voice and pushing back some of his frustration. "All right. I'm sorry, ok? I'm worried about you. I know you're afraid of dad and Bobby. I'm beginning to think you may be afraid of me, too. And I… I don't think I can handle that, Sammy."

Sam's head shot up. "I'm not afraid of you," he said in earnest. "No matter what's happened, you're the only one I'm not afraid of."

The relief he felt as Sammy's words brought a surge of relief brought tears to his eyes and a burning lump in his throat. He swallowed heavily and cleared his throat. "That's good."

"I know I shouldn't be afraid of Dad, but I can't help it. I'm afraid I'll screw up again."

Dean nodded. The abuse Sam had endured at his father's hand for months no doubt left lasting effects. Fear was only one of them. Something Dean knew he held some responsibility for because he hadn't seen it, hadn't helped when he thought there might have been a problem once or twice. "Maybe we should start there."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked softly. "I just gotta get over it."

"You're not, though. Not on your own," Dean said. "There's something you said last time when I heard you talking about it."

"What?"

"The demon. What you said to Bobby about the demon."

Sam frowned and shook his head unsure of what his brother was talking about.

"You didn't fight back because you felt like you deserved it. Because dad and I were getting hurt protecting you on hunts."

"I did deserve it. It was always my fault. Dad… It said so. He explained why every time."

"What did I tell you after you told me that?"

"It wasn't my fault?"

Dean nodded. "I remember explicitly telling you no matter what had happened or what had gone wrong nothing you could ever do deserved getting punished like that. You didn't believe me, though, did you?"

Sam chewed on this inside of his cheek. "No."

"Tell me why."

Sam shrugged and winced at the sudden jolt of pain the movement caused in his arm. "He wasn't wrong. I kept thinking about it, and the more I thought about it, I knew it wasn't wrong."

"Why would you say that?"

Sam bit his lower lip, taking time before he answered. "Because I did nothing but screw up. The research was wrong, or I missed my shots on hunts or banked right when it should've been left. Before he'd… It… he hit me, he'd tell me why. He'd tell me what I'd done wrong or he'd ask what I thought I'd done wrong and it was always way worse if I couldn't tell him, or told him the wrong thing," Sam said, shivering with the memory. "It was always something. He was right. I was always making mistakes. I had to pay for them."

"So you think it was ok?" Dean asked, surprised that the admission didn't surprise him. It struck him then that Sam interjected 'it' now and then referencing the demon, but using 'he' for their father. It still seemed to add up to the same person for his little brother. The line had been blurring too long and that thought made his heart hurt. "That getting treated that way was the right thing?"

"Um, no?" Sam said, knowing it was the answer his brother wanted to hear.

Dean closed his eyes for a second. "There is nothing, and I really mean nothing, Sam, that you could ever do to deserve being treated that way. Nothing."

"But."

"No. Nothing. I don't care what's happened or what's gone wrong. Nothing," Dean said strongly then took a breath. "You know I screw up too. Do you think I deserve to be hit?"

Sam shook his head.

"Then tell me why it's ok for you to be hit and not me?"

"Dad depended on me to get the research right. If I got that wrong then you and dad could've been killed. I have to learn to get it right the first time," Sam answered quickly. "I'm lucky you and dad didn't get killed because of my stupid mistakes."

Dean didn't like how fast the answer came out of his little brother. He had a feeling the demon had said it often to his brother in one form or another. "It told you that," Dean growled unable to hold back the cold burst of fury that suddenly exploded in his gut.

Sam opened his mouth and froze, realizing his mistake far too late. He could feel himself start to shake and tried to stop. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times panic making it too difficult to speak. "I wasn't supposed to tell. It would've upset you and leave you vulnerable while you hunted. Vulnerable equals death," he whispered. "Don't be mad. Please, please don't be mad."

"Christ," Dean whispered. Where the hell had he been when all of this was going on? "I'm not mad Sammy," _not at you_ he added silently, "and vulnerable doesn't equal death, Sam. Truth is that every time we go out on a hunt there's a chance one or all of us won't come back."

Sam frowned, shook his head as he chewed on his lower lip. His breathing was speeding up, winding up towards a panic attack.

Seeing the signals of a panic attack brewing Dean tucked his little brother under his arm. "We have a dangerous job and it sucks, but it's just how it is." He held onto Sam gently, mindful of his arm.

With a quiet sniffle Sam nodded against his brother's chest.

"Sammy, you gotta remember it wasn't dad. Before dad was possessed do you ever remember him hitting ether one of us?"

Sam shook his head. "No."

"Has he since?"

"No but he gets so mad," Sam whispered. "I can't tell the difference. And I know I shouldn't be scared anymore and then I feel stupid and get mad. I start yelling and… and … you leave if we're both yelling, most times. I get so scared cause you're not there."

Dean clenched his teeth, making his jaw muscles jump. "You're scared because you think that maybe the demon's still in there somewhere?"

Sam couldn't talk. He just nodded and tried to keep calm, but his lips were jerking slightly and his eyes were filling with tears.

"It's not in there anymore, Sammy," Dean whispered as he felt his little brother begin to shake harder against him his control slowly cracking. "You made sure of that. You saved Dad from that hell. You did that when I had no clue what was going on. You helped him and got rid of the demon."

"But what… What if…"

"There's no what if here, Little Man," Dean assured him. "When we get back to Bobby's I'm gonna show you some things Bobby did after our last visit. Bobby's is safe and if the demon was still in dad he'd be trapped in his room. I promise, Sammy, Dad's back to being Dad. As much as an ass as he can be, and as hard-nosed as he is about stuff, he's just our dad. I promise."

With the last spoken words Sam's control burst. He sucked in a stuttering breath before he began to cry in earnest and held onto his brother as tightly as he could.

"It's ok now, Little Man. It's all going to be ok," Dean said as he tightened his hold on his little brother.

TBC...


End file.
